


Blooming Friendship

by PurrV



Series: Knightformers - Rodimus and Drift [2]
Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurrV/pseuds/PurrV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A IDW/AU Knightformers tale about about Drift and Rodimus, and how they grew up together in the Kingdom Of Iaconia, and how they eventually fall in love.<br/>What will be at first a sweet story of youthful innocence, and young love, will soon transform into a twisted tale of sadistic minds, tortured souls and loss of hope.</p><p>The next part in my little saga. Drift and Rodimus' friendship continues to grow, and Drift begins to notice there is something strange going on in the palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Blooming Friendship - _A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale_**

****_Chapter One_  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - training with minor violence and holding hands 

**_\--------_ **

****_Key_  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years 

\--------

As the sol began anew, and the morning light began to wash over the city of Iaconia, a young mech in white armour steadied himself as he practiced his swordplay, completely focused on his training. Drift, took extra care as he practiced his battle stances, his sword swings, and his concentration, wanting to improve his over all skill, and at the same time, not accidently cut something he shouldn't. Thankfully no one was around to disturb him, though around the palace of the Primes he could detect, what he assumed were the servants walking around, and the knights and guards, who were coming back from the night watch. The best part was that he had a whole training ground all to himself, since most of the Autobot Knights were either still in their berths, or relaxing in the rest room. It was strange at first, for back at Crystal City, he would train with other students. Here, the Iaconian knights didn't train until the sol had fully risen from the horizon.

It just seemed laid back for Drift. "And I used to think I was lazy," sighed Drift, slicing his left hand blade through the air, "I used to get up at dawn, and even that was considered late."

Thinking back to his sols back at Crystal City, and his dojo, made the white mech a little homesick. A whole deca cycle had passed since Drift had come to Iaconia, to stay within the palace of the Primes, and to act as a companion for the youngest Prime, Rodimus. At first, he had no intention of staying, even if it was the palace of the Primes, the wondrous palace where the Primes walked among the children of Cybertronia. He wasn't even keen to stay when he first met young Rodimus Prime, who came off as a strange child, despite his holy heritage. Drift was planing on begging to his sensei, to return home with him, once his business in Iaconia was concluded. Yet after spending a short, but interesting, short period of time with Rodimus, Drift decided he would stay.

Now he only had two more sols until Master Axe would leave him, to return to Crystal City, and Drift had to admit he was feeling a little anxious. Master Axe had been spending as much time with him as he could, to teach him about the ways of the Iaconians, and the basic lifestyle they had. With him around he didn't really feel like he was all alone, in a alien land where everything was just odd to him. Sure Rodimus was always there, but he still felt like he was outnumbered.

A sudden shout caught his attention. "Drift! Why do you wake up at such horrible times?"

The white mech sighed, not at all surprised to find that Rodimus had decided to join him. Looking over his shoulder, he was amused to see that Rodimus was holding a mug of spicy energon, whilst donning a large thick blanket over his small frame. "Over doing it, aren't you?" asked Drift with a cheery tone, expressing his active mind.

The young Prime yawned, too tired to even pout at the white mech. Instead, he gulped down a large mouthful of his spicy energon, ignoring the positive energy Drift was giving off. "Oh be quiet, it's too early for this," he mumbled, sitting on a nearby bench.

Drift rolled his optics, stabbing the ground with his blades, and leisurely strolling over to where Rodimus sat. "If you don't like it, why do you bother coming here?" he asked.

This was the third time in a row Rodimus woke up early to watch him train, and each time the young Prime did nothing but complain that Drift was horrible for waking up at such cycles. The young Prime clearly did not enjoy waking up this early in the sol, that much was obvious, and Drift did admit he felt a little pleased that Rodimus made the effort to see him, yet at the same time he felt a little guilty. Still, it was a guilty pleasure. He still could not believe that Primes, let alone Iaconians, could be so lazy.

Rodimus shivered, wrapping himself up in the blankets and sipping more of his spicy energon. "Well my brothers wake up just as early as you do. Eventually I'm going to have to, so this is practice," he declared, his legs kicking the morning air.

"It does help if you go to bed early," suggested Drift, who didn't really know what cycle the young Prime considered to be late enough for his recharge.

"I do go the bed early," grumbled the young Prime.

Drift had a hard time believing that, and he could tell when the young Prime was lying. Maybe it was because Rodimus was still young, or maybe he had to get used to waking up at early cycles, before he would stop whining. Either way, Rodimus was going to have to deal with it, he brought this on himself. If was going to wake up at exaggerating cycles, then he would have to learn to cope with it.

"If it helps, keeping your body active, along with your mind, will keep you wide awake, and you won't feel so cold," suggested Drift, standing before the tired Prime, "So how about we spar or something?"

Rodimus looked up at Drift, and then looked over at his swords. His face expressed his concern before Drift could even sense it. "I'm not really good with those kind of blades Drift," he sighed.

Drift sighed in frustration. It was far too early for this, and he really wasn't in the mood, but he wasn't about to let Rodimus get away with this. As far as he was concerned, morning time for them was now training time, whether Rodimus liked it or not. "Well, what melee weapon have you practiced with?" he demanded, keen to know what other weapons Rodimus had been trained with.

Rodimus made another guilt filled expression, and looked away. "I haven't... really found one I'm good with yet," he sighed.

"Are you serious?"

His response was a nod. "Yeah, Kup has been relentless in seeking the right melee weapon for me, and so far he can't find me one," explained the young Prime, "I tried a spear, but I can't hold it right. I tried a great sword, but I haven't got the arms for it. I tried a small blades, but my grip is awful. Optimus even tried to train me with an axe, but I handle it terribly."

Drift was trying to hold in his snickers, shocked that Rodimus had difficulty with finding the right weapon. Back in Crystal City, a mech like Rodimus would have been made the laughing stock, for someone unable to hold any weapon was considered a failure. It wasn't until he sensed the anguish in Rodimus' mood, that he realized that this was actually bothering the young Prime. His delicate fingers tapped the side of his mug, as he huffed out his stress. Drift bit his derma, knowing how difficult it must be not being able to handle a weapon. "You can handle an arcane bow, right?" pointed out Drift, trying to reassure the young Prime, "Not many mechs at your age can handle such a weapon."

Rodimus huffed, looking at Drift with weary optics. "So what? It won't help me in close combat, and Primes are supposed to handle multiple weapons," he sighed, his voice showing his dismay, "Optimus says I just need to find the right one, but I'm nearly six vorns, and I haven't found one!" Rodimus suddenly gulped back a large amount of his spicy energon, and Drift was starting to detect anger from the young Prime. "Optimus mastered his sword and axe skills when he was five vorns, Sentinel mastered his giga swords when he was four and a half vorns, my father mastered his swords and lances when he was only four vorns, and I can only handle a stupid bow. I'm nothing but a failure in their optics!"

Without warning, Rodimus suddenly threw his half empty mug across the training ground, the fragile container smashing upon impact. Drift stood back slightly to avoid getting hit, looking at the young Prime with concern. Rodimus was now slumped over, hiding his face out of shame. This was the first time Drift had seen him like this. The white mech had not meant to stir such troubling feelings within the young Prime, not realizing how stressful this must be for him. It must be difficult to follow up to the expectations of your older brothers and father, especially if you were one of holy descent. Primes were famous for their handling of weapons, such as swords and battle axes. Since they were descendants of the old knights, it was expected of them. For one not being able to handle a simple sword, must have been stressful.

Drift had to help him, somehow.

Stepping before Rodimus again, he tugged at his shoulder. "If you like, I could assess you?"

Rodimus looked up, with puzzled optics. "Assess?" he repeated with a confused tone.

Drift nodded, hoping that this would help, but at the same time wondering if this was such a good idea. Truth be told, he never really assessed anyone before, only sensei's and instructors could carry out the process, but he had a very good idea how it was done. Back at his dojo, assessing someone was to help identify where the strong points and the weak points were located in whoever was getting assessed. When Drift was assessed, they pointed out that he had a pair of very good sword arms, and he was able to use them simultaneously without difficulty. Plus his spark was quite big, meaning he could handle a great sword without injuring himself. Rodimus should be able to handle it, hopefully. Also, to add to injury, assessing was done at a very young age. To assess someone who was nearly six vorns was quite embarrassing. It would be best if he kept that part to himself.

"If we start off with simple hand to hand combat, I can see where your faults are, maybe even find which weapon would suit you best," explained Drift, pulling Rodimus up, the blanket sliding off his frame.

The young Prime didn't argue, showing that he was actually quite eager to be 'assessed' by the white mech. "How does this work?" he asked, following Drift to the center of the training grounds.

"It's quite easy actually," explained Drift, trying to hide his concern, "We just have a quick spar, and I'll be able to see where your weak points are."

Rodimus' walking pace began to quicken, even getting a skip in there. He was clearly eager to give this a shot. "I've never sparred with anyone before!" he explained.

Drift halted in his tracks, and spun round to look at Rodimus with shock. "You've NEVER sparred with anyone?"

The young Prime shook his head. "No, I can't spar with anyone until I found the right weapon. Until I do, I just have to practice on dummies."

The white mech staggered backwards in shock, for he had never heard of something so ridiculous. "W-well... h-how... that is the dumbest thing I ever heard!" he cried, unable to understand the stupidity of this. "No wonder you've never found the right weapon!"

Rodimus appeared confused. "But that's how it's always been. Until we find a weapon we are accustomed to, we can't spar with anyone," he explained, still finding odd that Drift was upset about all this, "Until Optimus figured out he was good with an battleaxe, he wasn't allowed to duel with anyone. Once he found his talent for it, he had battleaxe masters come from all over to train and spar with him. It's how we've always done it."

Drift's jaw dropped from shock. "That is stupid! You can't find the right weapon, until you fight with one with an actual combatant! That's how we do it!"

"Look, are you going to help me find the right weapon, or not?" sighed Rodimus, not interested in their culture differences.

Drift gave up, no longer wanting to dwell on this any longer. He still could not believe that Iaconians, and even Primes, did not spar with actual live sparring partners until they found the right weapon. In Crystal City, the moment they were assessed, they were given their weapons, and then had to spar with fellow students. Drift remembered the first time he had to spar with his blades. He was slow and terrible at first, his sparring partner showing off his superiority as he dueled with him, thus making the white mech feel weak. It pushed him to become better than his sparring partners, wanting to be as great and skilled as they were. He was aware that Iaconians had clearly be doing their own way for some time now, but Drift still could not believe in such a practice.

Pushing it to the back of his mind, Drift stood with Rodimus in the sparring ground, wanting to at least push the young Prime in the right direction. "Let's just get this started," he sighed, flexing his limbs. "You do know basic stances, right?"

Rodimus nodded, stretching his own muscles in preparation. "Of course I do," he declared, eager to get started.

"Just making sure," sighed Drift, raising his arms, "OK, first I want you to try and hit me, and I won't hit back. It's so I can see how good your are with your ams. Now strike me!"

The young Prime grinned with enthusiasm, stepping forward with his arms raised, ready to begin. Drift braced himself, not even sure how hard the young Prime could hit him. Rodimus inched closer, focusing on his attack, before throwing a fist at the white mech. Drift tried to dodge, as he was supposed to, but Rodimus managed to strike him on the chassis. Once he managed to move to the left, quickly recovering from the punch, Drift took a moment to think. The white mech took note that Rodimus had a very fast throw to his punch, he barely managed to dodge it, though his punch wasn't that hard. It could be that he was still tired, or maybe he wasn't that strong with his fists.

"Was that your hardest?" he asked, just to make sure.

Rodimus pouted, taking it as an insult. "Of course it is," he snapped. "I'm stronger than I look!"

"I'm just making sure," sighed Drift, "You don't have to whine like a little-"

He barely had enough time to dodge the next punch, Rodimus clearly angry at the insult thrown at him. His punch was a little harder than the last one, but it was the speed of his throws that caught Drift's attention. He had a very fast arm, faster than most mechs Drift had seen. Then again, firing that arcane bow must have strengthened his arms. The young Prime cried out as he tried to hit Drift again, hitting him on the arm this time, as Drift tried to evade him with a faster step. Drift had to keep moving right to left and left to right, to avoid getting hit. He even had to move quicker, for Rodimus was very fast with his throws.

Once he was pleased with the knowledge he had gotten from that quick tussle, Drift stopped, raising his arms quickly to alert Rodimus that the first part was now over. "OK, stop! I've seen enough," he shouted.

Rodimus heaved heavily, getting worked up over the free hits he had gotten. "Giving up already?" he sneered, pleased with himself. "So how did I do? Have you figured out which weapon I'm suited for?"

Drift sighed and shook his head. "That was just the first part, silly," he explained in an agitated tone, "Now we can move on to the next part."

"Ooh! What's that?" asked Rodimus, instantly forgetting about the punches he had thrown earlier.

The white mech straightened himself out as he explained. "Well I noticed that you're really fast with your punches, they're just not strong enough," explained Drift, making certain that Rodimus could understand. Of course it made the young Prime growl quietly, clearly not pleased to hear that his punches weren't strong enough. Drift just smiled, shaking his tensed up arms. "OK, now I'll throw the punches, and you block."

That caught the young Prime's attention. "What!?" he cried out.

"It's fine, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see how you block," explained Drift.

Rodimus didn't arge, sighing as he raised his arms in a defensive position. "I'm not scared," he stated in confidence, "I just don't want to-"

Drift waited for the right moment, the moment Rodimus was caught off guard, before he threw a punch. Rodimus reacted quite quickly, yelping as he quickly raised an arm to block it. As Drift expected, the young Prime managed to block the punch, his fist hitting the young Prime's forearm. Rodimus staggered back a little, hissing upon realizing that the white mech was quite strong. Drift didn't want to hold back, he wanted to see how fast Rodimus could be. To be certain he threw another punch, just as quickly as the last one. Rodimus blocked it again, his lightening fast reaction, and his fast arm movements, preventing him from getting hit. So he threw some more, and more, pushing the young Prime back. Not one of his punches landed anywhere on Rodimus, all of them getting blocked. Drift kept punching again and again, until Rodimus cried out in anger, whacking his forearm against Drift's face.

"ENOUGH!" he yelled, tired of being pushed back by the white mech.

The white mech staggered back, massaging his face where Rodimus had hit him. Rodimus was heaving heavily, wiping off some coolant from his face, the whole ordeal wearing him out. Though his punches involving his fists weren't as hard, his attack with his forearm was quite hard. It might have been from the stress, but the white mech could see where Rodimus' strength was.

Rodimus, however, was still upset. "I thought we were sparring, but that was a full on attack," he shouted, his fists trembling in rage. "You're such a jerk, trying to hit me like that. I should have you slapped in irons!"

"Well I can't assess you if I go easy on you," grumbled Drift, making sure his jaw was broken from that hit, "And besides, I think I found your where your strength lies."

"You have?" asked Rodimus, his mood suddenly changing.

Drift nodded, walking over and taking Rodimus' arms in his hands. "You have very fast reactions, and your forearm attacks are actually more stronger than your hand attacks. In time your punches will be more powerful, but I believe I know what weapon will suit you."

Rodimus suddenly got excited enough, hopping on the spot. "Really? What one? Which one? Tell me!" he pleaded, eager to know.

Drift sighed, "I have to ask my sensei first, because I'm pretty certain your country doesn't have it." The white mech looked back at Rodimus' arms, knowing very well they were delicate, besides being quite powerful, "The last thing I want is to cause trouble."

Rodimus suddenly began to giggle, making the white mech look at him with questioning optics. The young Prime just looked back at him, with an odd smile, his cheeks flushed a little as he stared at him. Drift blinked, wondering what he had done, for he hadn't done anything to make him laugh like that, he had been quite serious this whole time. It was that Drift realized how close he was standing next to the young Prime, their faces were mere inches apart. He was able to get a closer, and more accurate, look at that young and pretty face.

He had told himself many times, way too many times to count, but there was no denying that Rodimus was far too beautiful for his own good. It must have been a perk for the Primes, to have such beautiful looks. Sentinel Prime was like a god, and even gave off the aura of one. Optimus Prime was like a divine creature, and Rodimus looked like he had just fallen from the heavens, as if he was a present from celestial beings. The white mech had shamefully fantasied what it would be like hold him in a lovers embrace, to smell his scent from his delicate neck, to caress his delicate frame, to feel his spark pulsing against his as their chassis touched. To think of such things with a Prime was disrespectful, but Drift could not help it. His personality was weird, but Rodimus Prime was just perfect when it came to his looks.

The young Prime giggled again, and then gave Drift a funny look. "So Drift, how long are you going to hold my arms for?"

Drift blinked and then looked back down at his hands. He then realized that he had been holding Rodimus' arms for quite some time, and it was starting to get awkward. Blushing a little, he quickly let go anf spun around to hide his blushing face. The young Prime giggled as Drift flushed like mad, the white mech upset that he had been made a fool of. "L-let's just leave it for today," he grumbled, "I'm hungry now."

Rodimus laughed, and playfully slapped Drift on the arm. "Whatever you say," he laughed, following Drift as they headed back inside.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Blooming Friendship - _A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale_**

__

Chapter Two  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - T  
Warnings so far - a moody Prime and past reference to a child being injured

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
One vorn old in cybertronian years - 2 years old in human years  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

It was a pleasant afternoon, and Drift had enjoyed his training. In fact he was feeling a little smug, unable to hide a huge grin plastered on his pale face as he walked though a golden and scarlet hallway. He got to show off in front of the Autobot knights, who at first mocked him for his height and lack of armour. Yet the moment they saw him perform his beautiful yet deadly sword skills, their jaws fell from their faces, and some of them even cried in anguish. He couldn't resist showing off, and found it amusing that these "proud" knights were weeping upon realizing that someone so young could surpass them. He had hoped Rodimus would watch alongside them, but he had his lessons and more of his training.

It would be rather invigorating, to have the young Prime cheer for him before these so called knights. How jealous they would be, to see how their young Prime preferred him over his own subjects. He could already sense how jealous they were of him. Some of them were even tempted to challenge him, but after he slashed at the very air around them, they backed down rather quickly. He even heard some of them talking, about how lucky the white mech was to observe Rodimus Prime train. They weren't so privileged.

"Which reminds me," he pondered to himself aloud, " I have to inform Sir Kup about my recommendation for him." He hoped he would listen, but since he was a living legend among the Iaconians, it might be awkward for him to take advice from someone so young. Maybe if he asked Master Axe to ask for him, hopefully he would listen.

Drift decided to spend some time in the grand library before meeting up with Rodimus, and learn a thing or two about Iaconian customs. He had caused quite a fuss over this little issue, and there were still so many things he had no clue about. Thankfully he was informed that everything he would need to know was located in the library, and he had already learnt a few things from reading some of the material within. It was also quite peaceful in there, the white mech able to let his mind wander as he filled his head with knowlege. That is until Rodimus showed up to drag him away.

He wasn't that far from the library and as he approached the next hallway that would lead him there, he suddenly detected that someone was nearby. Looking up he spotted some movement and soon found that, none other than, Optimus Prime had just appeared in the next hallway. The red and blue Prime was heading in the other direction, and had not noticed Drift as he walked on by. Drift, wanting to greet him, waved his hand and called out, "Good afternoon, Optimus Prime."

To his surprise, Optimus ignored him and continued to walk on, rather slowly in fact. He appeared to be in some sort of daze or something, his optics staring straight ahead and unfocused. Drift wasn't sure if he had been heard or not, but decided no to shout out again, since this was considered rude in Iaconian customs. It would be best to approach him and ask him directly, rather than calling him out again.

Taking a few steps forward, the white mech suddenly gasped out loud, clutching his aching spark. "W-what?" he gasped, staggering back, his optics wide open with terror.

In all his life, he had never once felt such... such horrible and depressing feelings. A sadness that was deeper than any ocean, anger that was powerful than any storm, hatred that stretched further than the world itself, dread that made him worry for his own life. The malice that had suddenly appeared overwhelmed him, causing the poor thing to fall to his knees. It was like someone had suddenly wrapped their hands around his throat and was slowly choking him. Like someone had grabbed his spark and was squeezing the life out of it. For a split moment he thought he went blind. For a split moment he thought he was drowning in a sea of dark muck of bitterness. It was horrible. He wanted to cry. He gasped, trying to clear his vents desperately. He thought he was going to die.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.

Drift gasped as the dark tension finally freed his body, and he was able to relax, venting hard. He had to grab his throat to make certain there was nothing twisting around it, though he was almost certain that someone had held it. "W-what was that?" he gasped, standing back onto his feet. What could have created such a force of bitter hatred and unbearable sadness? Was that coming from Optimus Prime? It couldn't be, he was always so nice and kind. Rodimus was always talking about how he was such a caring and gentle brother, one who never expressed any hatred or sadness before him. There was no way such horrible feelings were coming from him. Someone else had to be around, that happened to walk in the same time Optimus had, maybe from behind, where he couldn't see.

Once he had fully recovered, he looked around. No one else was around, and Optimus Prime was long gone. Had those horrible feelings emerged from the red and blue Prime, or had someone else walked past without him noticing? Forcing his stiff legs to move, he walked forward until he reached the next hallway, and peered around. Optimus had vanished, and so had the dark sensation that had overwhelmed him. He couldn't detect another presence before him, but he still refused to believe such feelings came from the kind Prime.

"What are you doing?" came a voice, that made Drift jump. Looking over his shoulder, he was surprised to see that Ultra Magnus had somehow approached him without him noticing. The strict mech seemed as moody as ever as he strode over to the white mech, still not at happy that Drift was staying at the palace. "I'll ask again," he sighed angrily, "What are you doing?"

Drift, still shocked that such dark feelings could exist tried to explain. "I was on my way to the library when..." he paused for a moment, looking down the hallway, where Optimus had walked down.

Ultra Magnus huffed, now starting to get impatient. "When what?" he asked in a demanding tone.

Looking back at the blue and white mech, Drift wondered if it was him who had been in the foul mood, yet all he detected from him was annoyance, stress, and a little bit of anger. It couldn't have been him, he may be carry a foul personality, but he certainly couldn't have been the one who had been expressing such woeful and terrible feelings. Though he wondered if Ultra Magnus knew if something was wrong with Optimus? The two worked together, and Rodimus admitted that half the time, he felt like Ultra Magnus was trying to steal him away from him. "Ultra Magnus, sir?" he asked, wanting to be certain, "Is Optimus... feeling alright?"

The blue and white mech gave him an odd look. "What are you talking about?" he snapped.

"Oh, it's just... " the white mech explained, twisting his hands together, " I saw him a moment ago, and he seemed... strange." Drift wasn't entirely sure how to explain this, and he didn't like the way Ultra Magnus was looking at him. Maybe using the term "strange" wasn't going to help explain this. "H-he just seemed like he was... um... sad or something. I just assumed he was upset, because when I called out to him he ignored me. Is he feeling alright?"

He was half expecting Ultra Magnus to shrug him off and tell him to mind his own business, followed with a quick telling off, but the white and blue mech seemed to ponder on this, and then glanced up at a Chronos-sphere. He suddenly bore a bitter expression, and frowned " I see... that time already," he sighed, completely forgetting that Drift was stranding there. To Drift's surprise, Ultra Magnus stood there like a statue, and was giving off a strange aura. The white mech could detect feelings coming from him, different than the ones he usually carried. He bore sadness, pain and a surprising amount of guilt that seemed to weigh him down. There was even some anger hidden in there, but he seemed to be holding it back with surprising force. Was there something he didn't know? It was then quickly replaced by his usual emotions, and he glared down at Drift. "It's none of your concern. Optimus Prime has been busy of late, and the last thing he needs is for you to disturb him." He then shoved past Drift, and walked down the hallway Optimus had passed through.

Drift sighed, and carried on his way. He found it strange though, that Ultra Magnus would walk off without telling him off. So far during his stay, he had told him off for anything he did, from saying something improper to doing something that was considered strange. Now it just seemed like he wanted to get away from him quickly. Maybe he was right, maybe Optimus had been so busy that he had switched off his senses. Yet that didn't explain where that dreadful feeling came from.

He sighed as he entered the library at last. "Maybe my reading was just off," he wondered out loud. "It's not the first time I read someone wrong."

"Read what wrong?" came a voice.

Drift nearly jumped out of his armour and stumbled backwards upon hearing the sudden voice. As he clutched his surprised spark, in order to calm it, he looked up to see who had surprised him so. To his surprise it was Rodimus. "W-what are you doing here?" he asked, in an angry tone, "I thought you were training?"

Rodimus shrugged. "Ol' Kup needed to take care of something, so I got the afternoon off," he explained, in excited tone in his voice. "Prowler told me you'd be here, so I waited."

"And so you decided to scare me half to death?" grumbled Drift, standing back up straight.

The young Prime just giggled. "You were the one who got scared," he pointed out. "Now, what did you read wrong? You don't have a datapad in your hands."

It was then that Drift realized that he never told Rodimus about his ability to read senses, he always talked about it but Rodimus never understood what he meant by it. Apparently, not many mechs in Iaconia could practice such a skill. "Well... I can sort of tell what others are feeling," he explained. "I can tell when they're really happy, or even angry."

Rodimus tilted his head, giving Drift a dumb look. "I can tell when others are angry," he said, not understanding what Drift was talking about it. "All I have to do is look at them."

"Oh no," sighed Drift, scratching his helm as he tried to think of a suitable way to explain this. "That's not what I meant at all... um, how do I say this. Let's say, for example, you meet with someone who appears happy. You would think he's happy, but when I read them, I can tell what they're really feeling."

Rodimus seemed to understand, yet he still appeared confused. "Why would you need such a skill?" he asked.

"Easy," laughed Drift, "If I was to bump into someone, who acted friendly to me, but I sense that they contain hostile feelings, I could prepare myself before I get surprised."

Rodimus clapped his hands together, now understanding what it was all about. "So it helps you detect assassins and bad guys?"

Drift nodded, "I suppose you can think of it like that. We call it Reading; to read ones mind."

"So you can read anyone?" he asked, his tone expressing his excitement. "If I ask you to read someone, you can tell me what they're really feeling?" Drift responded with a nod, and Rodimus' grin grew wider. It was then that Drift realized that maybe to young Prime wanted him to abuse the power of his skill on certain individuals, which meant he was going to be reading a lot of mechs he didn't want to read.

Drift suddenly thought back, to when he sensed those foul feelings from Optimus Prime. Ultra Magnus never gave him a straight answer, so maybe Rodimus knew what was really wrong with his brother. "Rodimus, has Optimus been feeling alright lately?" he asked.

Rodimus gave Drift another strange look, but appeared to understand what he meant. "Why? Did you see him out of it?" he asked.

Drift nodded. "Yes, he ignored me when I called out to him, and he seemed to be in a foul mood."

The young Prime uttered an upsetting sound, his face bearing a pained expression. "He's usually like that on some sols," he sighed, folding his arms and looking of in the distance "There are some sols when he's as kind and loving as a brother could get. Then there are the sols when he completely ignores me, and snaps at anyone who tries to talk to him." Drift found that hard to believe, given Optimus' kind nature, but Rodimus was speaking the truth. Reading him now, he could sense that he was upset, revisiting memories he did not wish to remember. "In fact, one day, when I was somewhere between three to four vorns old, I found him in one of those moods, so I asked him what was wrong." He looked over at Drift with a bitter smile. "He turned around and slapped me."

The white mech could not contain his gasp of shock. "He... slapped you?"

Rodimus nodded, looking away again. "I was so shocked I ran back to my room and cried. I couldn't understand why he hit me," he lamented, leaning against a table, "But a few cycles later, he ran into my room, picked me up, and hugged me. I remembered as he rocked me in his arms, saying "I'm sorry" over and over, until his voice went hoarse." Standing back up, the young Prime bit his lip, bearing a troubled expression. "I asked Ratchet, what was wrong with him, and he told me that Optimus suffers from mood swings, or something. They say it all started when..." He stopped talking for a moment as he thought about it. It was almost as if he no longer wished to talk about it.

"You... don't have to continue, if it makes you feel uncomfortable," he empathized, stepping forward, "I can see that this is upsetting you."

The young Prime suddenly smirked at him. "You read me, right?" he chuckled lightly. Drift smiled back, unable to resist nodding. Rodimus laughed as he brushed off the bad moment, and put on his need for adventure mood. "Well let's forget about that, and go have an adventure!"

Drift bit his lip this time, wondering what the young Prime had in mind. Last time Rodimus suggested going on an adventure, they ended up lost in some garden maze, after Rodimus admitted he didn't know how to get out. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, not wanting the gardener to rescue them again.

Rodimus smirked at him. "I have decided to let you help me seek out something, that I have been looking for some time!" he responded.

"Oh?" mumbled Drift, "What would that be?"

The young Prime answered by grabbing his arm, and lead him out of the libriay, striding down the hallway with him. As they walked, Rodimus explained what they were up to. "We're looking for a door!" he stated. "A door?" repeated Drift, confused at the very idea. "Yes, a door, but not any ordinary door!" The young Prime paused, and turned to look at him. "I have been seeking this door for quite a while now, and now that I have you helping me, I should find it rather quickly."

Drift was still confused. "But why a door?" he asked.

They began walking up a flight of stairs as Rodimus explained. "Well you see, a long time ago, when I was really young, I got lost and wandered around the palace." Drift wasn't at all surprised that someone could get lost in this place, especially at such a young age. Rodimus continued, as they walked through down a hall filled with statues of knights, "I kept walking until I found myself standing before this golden door, covered in red patterns, with a silver maiden etched into it."

"I've never seen such a door," explained Drift, who was quite certain he hadn't. "It wouldn't surprise me," laughed Rodimus, excited that they were seeking the door in question, "I've been looking for it for so long, I'd be quite annoyed if you found it before I do."

It wasn't quite what Drift had in mind, to be looking for some golden door, but at least it kept him busy. He did admit he was a little intrigued, wondering why Rodimus would be seeking such a door in the first place. Soon they were running around the palace like little children playing hide and seek. Maids would give them questioning looks, and knights on patrol look on with curiosity. Rodimus and Drift ignored them all, wanting to find the golden door with red patterns. They looked down hallways, peered into towers, ran up every staircase they could find, and even walked into rooms they were not supposed to visit. They even peered out windows, and wandered into strange chambers, yet they could not find the door they were looking for. There were silver doors, jade doors, and even doors made from jewels, but they never came across a golden door. They did find one eventually, but it was covered in blue patterns, not red.

Time marched on, and the two young mechs took a quick break on a bench near a window. Rodimus was thinking where else they could look, whilst Drift was fairly certain that, despite running around like mad, he hadn't even seen a tenth of the palace. Drift was also wondering why Rodimus was looking for this door. Why was he seeking it? Was there something special behind it? Wanting to know, he sat up and asked Rodimus straight out, "What is so special about this door, Rodimus?"

Rodimus sighed, tired of their little adventure, but still eager to go on looking, after a quick rest. He looked at Drift, with a casual expression. "Well, when I found this door, I heard funny sounds coming from within," he explained. "So I reached for the handle, pulled it open, and then..." He paused for a moment, as if he was trying to think. Drift stared at him, waiting for him to finish. "Then what?" he asked, eager to know what Rodimus saw. The young Prime sighed and looked away from him. "I can't remember."

Drift blinked. "You forgot?" he asked, making certain he heard right.

The young Prime nodded with a response. "I can't remember what happened after I opened the door," he sighed. "I remember pulling it open, but after that everything is blank. The next thing I remember was waking up in my room, with Optimus sitting next to me." Rodimus folded his arms as he tried to recall his muddled up memory. "I asked Optimus about it, but he insisted that I had fallen asleep in the hallway, where he found me."

The white mech pondered on this. "Did... you ask anyone else about this door?" he asked.

Rodimus nodded, "I asked all around, but no one has seen this door. I asked the maids, I asked the knights, I even resorted to asking Ultra Magnus, but they all said the same thing. Even Optimus said I must have dreamed it up or something." The young Prime huffed, and suddenly noticed that Drift was giving him a questioning look. "I haven't made it up!" he snapped, "I remember it clearly, I just can't remember what happened when I opened it."

"I'm not saying I don't believe you," fumed Drift, who wasn't all questioning the young Prime, "It's just you were so young at the time, right? What if this door was replaced? Or even built over?" He was answered with a furious shake of the head. "It can't have been! I know it's here somewhere, and I won't give up." With that said, Rodimus jumped up, ready to carry on with his search for the golden door. "Come on then, we still got the eastern most wing to search."

Drift sighed, standing up and following him. He was curious as to why there was a gap in Rodimus' memory after opening a door. Did he dream it up? Or did he truly find such a door? If there was such a door, what happened after he opened it? Well, if they do find it, they would have to open it to find out. However, due to the size of the palace, Drift doubted he would ever find it before he had to leave.

The pair carried on until they walked out onto an outdoor walkway, that surrounded a large garden far below them. Drift peered down, admiring the garden as they walked past. The short walls that surrounded the walkway was designed in a strange way, with small gaps in between them. If Drift had been any smaller, he'd be able to fit through them, and it was a long way down. Looking up ahead, he noticed that Rodimus had paused before one of the small gaps, staring at it with strange optics. Drift could sense that he was troubled, and he wondered why.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, standing just behind the young Prime.

Rodimus sighed and looked at Drift, expressing that he was upset about something. "Remember when I told you that my brother, Optimus, developed strange mood swings?" he asked. The white mech nodded, wondering what brought it up. The young Prime sighed, looking back at the gap in the wall. "When Optimus was over a vorn old, he was standing right here, and then he was... pushed."

Drift felt a sense of overwhelming dread fill him when Rodimus uttered the word "pushed" and they happened to be standing near a gap, big enough for a one vorn old to walk through. He looked at the gap in the wall, where it lead to a long drop to the garden below. "He was... pushed?" he repeated, not sure if he could believe such a thing.

"Yes... my father was holding a private function in the garden at the time," explained Rodimus, "They told me that whilst everyone was in the garden, Optimus was up here watching... when a maid pushed him." Drift's jaw dropped upon learning this. A maid pushed Optimus off a wall? Why on Cybertronia would a maid do such a thing to a Prime, a child in fact? Rodimus leaned upon the wall, and looked down at the garden far below. "They said there was blood everywhere, and the nobles screamed. Father was furious, and had the maid brought down, whilst Optimus was rushed to the healing chambers. They said she lost it, and my father beheaded her, right down there." Drift peered down as well, gazing down at the peaceful garden. To think that such a peaceful place had once been a place filled with chaos, made him feel strange. "They say that ever since that day, Optimus had started acting strangely. They think it affected his mind."

The young Prime sighed and looked back at Drift. "The strange thing is, Optimus never talked about it. Ultra Magnus only told me about it, just in case I might say something to upset him."

Drift was still shocked to hear that someone had tried to kill a Prime. Someone had attempted to kill a young Prime, right before his father. Why? Why would someone do such a thing? What could have driven someone to commit such a disgusting act? "Why did she do it?" he asked, not even thinking if this was something that should not be asked.

Rodimus frowned. "They say she was a rebel from Kaonol, who wanted revenge for the strict laws we enforced over there," he explained. "They hate us over there at the moment, and thought that by seriously hurting one of the Primes would send a message," he said with a sigh.

The white mech still could not believe that such a traumatic thing had happened to Optimus at such a young. He knew that the Kaonol's weren't lovers of Iaconia, nor it's laws, but he didn't think they would stoop so low as to attempt to murder a young Prime. He had lived there once, when he was very young, until he was brought to Crystal City. He remembered that Kaonol was a dark nation, with bleak skies, and dangerous citizens. Drift suddenly found he was ever more ashamed of his heritage, his Sire being a Kaonol whilst his Carrier was from Crystal City. He barely remembered his Carrier and his Sire... those were memories that were better left alone.

The young Prime sighed, looking at Drift with concern. "Do your people hate us?"

Drift suddenly looked up at Rodimus, and shook his head. "No, we could never hate you!" he exclaimed, shocked to think Rodimus could think of such a thing. "We, from Crystal City, could never hate the Primes, you're holy to us."

That didn't seem to convince the young Prime. "But your sensei is here to sort out some laws we enforced in your land," he claimed, "I heard him say, quite clearly, that the people of Crystal City were upset."

The white mech bit his glossa as he tried to think of how to explain this. "It is... true that there were some laws that have upset some people, but Master Axe has assured me that these have been sorted out, and my people are much happier now."

It was true, Master Axe had managed to sort out the issue he had been sent to sort out, and yet Rodimus still seemed saddened by all of this. He looked back at the spot, where many stellar cycles ago, his brother was attacked in a horrible way, just because someone from another land was angry at them. Drift was unsure of what to say. He did admit, he was surprised that Rodimus was actually concerned with such issues, despite his child like behavior and he could see why it would upset him. There were, sadly, some people who hated the Primes, and many of them were from Kaonol. Master Axe had told him that Kaonol was once a lawless nation, until the Primes came in, and added it to their empire. He could only assume that the Kaonols just wanted their lawless lifestyle back, and they blaming the Primes as an excuse.

"I wouldn't dwell on it too much," suggested Drift, patting Rodimus on the back, "I'm certain one day, everything will work out between all the nations in Cybertronia, and we can all live in true peace."

Rodimus looked to him. "You think so?" he asked.

Drift nodded, absolutely certain that this was true. "It is said, that a Prime will lead the people of Cybertronia to true peace. It will take time, but I believe that you, your brothers, and your father will bring peace to this world."

The young Prime smiled in a calming way, the words that Drift had spoken seemed to had made him feel better. If one such as Drift believed that peace would soon bloom within the world, then maybe it would. The young Prime looked up at the clear blue sky, and closed his optics. "All I want is a world where me and Optimus can live in, where neither of us would have to be upset ever again," he whispered gently. He then grinned in his usual way, and looked at Drift. "Oh, and you too," he laughed.

Drift blushed, and quickly looked away to hide his red face. "A-aren't we looking for some door or something?" he asked, wanting to change to subject.

"Ah yes, we were!" replied Rodimus suddenly, "Come on then, I want to find it before tea time!"

The two young mechs carried on with their adventure, the pair of them feeling better about themselves. Though Drift still could not help but wonder, if the fall had really caused Optimus Prime to develop a strange mood swing, that affected him to this day.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale

Chapter Three  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - saying goodbyes, and rude conversations

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Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

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The time Drift had spent in Iaconia had flown by so fast, he had failed to realise that this was the sol when Master Axe would leave him in the care of the Primes, and return to Crystal City. He knew this sol was to pass, but it had arrived so suddenly that the white mech was unprepared for it. He wasn't certain what to do, and didn't know what to say. Already the great burning sol was high above them in the golden rose sky, and the vessel, that Master Axe would be traveling home in, was ready to depart for it's long journey. Master Axe was already saying his goodbye's to the Princes, blessing the Senators and Noblemechs for aiding his people, and thanking them all for their respectful hospitality during his stay. Drift could not believe that this would be the last time he would see his Sensei, for at least another two stellar cycles. Two stellar cycles. That was nothing to the almost eternal lifespan of an Cybertronian, but to Drift it felt like an eternity without end.

He stood, proud with head held high, next to Rodimus Prime, who was currently saying his goodbyes to the wise elder. Drift tried to remain poised and polite, wanting to keep a mask of confidence over his pain, but he could feel it was starting to falter as time ticked on. He carefully glanced over at his Sensei, now speaking with the young Prime. Rodimus was acting like his kind and polite brother, talking with a proud and sincere tone, whilst standing in a graceful and dignified form. Drift actually had a hard time to decide where his optics should be looking; either at the rare sight of a composed Rodimus, or his beloved Sensei who he won't see for another two stellar cycle. He could hear hundreds of voices in his head, all of them telling him to do different things to keep his Sensei from leaving. One told him to hope that Rodimus would keep talking with him, so that he would remain longer. One strange voice told him to latch his arms around his Sensei, and beg him to stay. Another was telling him to ignore all these voices, and just accept it. One even told him to challenge him to a dual, and if he lost to Drift he would have to stay. That voice must have emerged from his clueless side, for he knew that challenging Master Axe was pure suicide.

Just when he thought that time had actually slowed down for a change, Master Axe finally stood before him, his shadow causing the white mech to flinch by accident. The elder mech chuckled as Drift quickly stood to attention, and cautiously peered up at him. His ancient yet well structured face bore a warm, and almost sad smile, as he looked down upon his young student. Drift could only stare back, not realising that his optics had swollen and his lips were quivering. The bitter tense silence between them was almost unbearable. It only felt like a night ago when he was discussing with his Sensei about the melee weapon choice for Rodimus Prime. The following sol, Master Axe told him that he had spoken with Sir Kup, and he was already organising a personalised order for the young Prime. The sol after that, both Drift and Master Axe were constantly pestered by Rodimus, the young Prime determined to know what weapon he was to train with. Neither of them told him, the pair wanting it to be a surprise. Rodimus threaten Drift with childish threats, but Drift only laughed and told him that it would be worth the wait. Truthfully he wanted Master Axe to be there when Rodimus received his surprise weapon, the pair of them watching as the young Prime would cheer with delight, as he clutched it in his arms. Although he was looking forward to that moment, he had hoped Master Axe would have stayed to see it too. 

Shaking his head to clear this hopeful thoughts, Drift knew it was selfish of him to want Master Axe to stay. He had to return home, to deliver his news to Grand Master Dai Atlas and the other members of the circle, and to continue training his other students. Drift could survive here without him, even though at the same time, he couldn't. He knew enough of the Iaconian lifestyle to get by, without causing any offence, but there was so much more Master Axe could teach him. But he had to let him go. He had to go back, for the sake of their people. He had no more business here, and the Circle would be eager to hear what had transpired during his time in the grand capital.

The wise old mech smiled at him, placing the palm of his hand upon Drift's brilliant white helm. "Drift, you were never good with farewells," he chuckled, gently caressing his student in a affectionate way. "In fact, neither am I. All I can offer to you now, is but one simple piece of advise, from a teacher to his student." 

Drift cleared his mind, ready to receive the last piece of wisdom from his Sensei. Master Axe bore a gentle smile as he leaned in closer to his young student, carefully whispering into his audio, as if he wanted no one else to hear what he had to say. "No matter how far apart we are, no matter how much time has passed between us, we will always be connected. So if you ever feel alone and scared, just remember that, even though I'm not there in the protoform, I am there within your spark." 

Before, Drift would have rolled his optics, and proclaim that he knew such things and that there was no point in telling him, but right now it was something that he wanted to hear.His spark cried out in need for such words, and even though it had been given what was wanted, it still craved more, but Drift knew these words were enough. It gave him hope that no matter how isolated he felt, his teachers and his fellow students would always be there in spirit, thus he was never truly alone. It would be the first time he would be far apart from those he called master and brother, but Drift was now confident that he would be able to walk on his own two feet. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared, yet at the same time he wasn't. The fear was now slowly being replaced with excitement, and the knowledge that the Primes would watch over him made him feel at ease with his duty in this new land. As Master Axe pulled away, Drift gracefully smiled up at him, and saluted him the way all members of the circle would salute each other. He didn't need words to tell him how he felt, or to say his farewell. He knew his Master Axe followed his goodbye, before slowly turning his back to him and walking away. The white mech could only stand there and watch as his Sensei was finally leaving his side. 

Before he knew it, Rodimus had managed to shift a little closer to him and leaned over so he could whisper something into his audio. "You know, you could leave with him now, if you like?" This statement surprised the white mech, and he look at the young Prime with a face filled with shock. Rodimus merely looked back, bearing an expression of guilt, and he was biting his lip. "I don't mind. Really, I don't," he continued.

Though he said that, meaning to be kind and supportive, Drift could sense that he was hoping that he wouldn't go but, much to Drift's embarrassment, the young Prime didn't want to see him in pain. His emotions were mixed up; he wanted Drift to stay and remain his friend, but he didn't want him to be sad, and if returning home would make him happy then he would gladly, if not regrettably, let him go. In fact it never accrued to Drift that this would be his last opportunity to return home. Master Axe had told him that if he ever changed his mind, he would take him back to Crystal City and no one would say anything. He had thought about it a couple of times, when Rodimus managed to push him into a cloud of doubt, and cause him nothing but stress, but after a while of understanding what the young Prime was like, he had gotten used to it. The young Prime wasn't so bad, once you understood him.

He formed a small smile, before looking over at the young Prime. "Someone has to keep their optics on you," he said with a false sigh, "Master Axe would have done it himself, but he has duties that exceed your needs." These words, that Ultra Magnus would have found offensive, actually made Rodimus snort it laughter. He gave the white mech a discreet nudge, before standing back in his spot. Drift smiled a little, upon feeling the relief rushing through the young Prime's being. 

It still embarrassed him that Rodimus was happy to have him stay, and even more so when he felt that he was actually concerned about his own happiness. He was aware that before his arrival, Rodimus had been depressed and lonely. Optimus had tried everything to make his little brother happy, before asking Master Axe and Grand Master Dai Atlus if they could spare a young mech to be his companion. To think that his mere presence impacted the young Prime's life, made him feel proud in an odd way. In fact, thinking of Rodimus Prime as a friend felt odd. Drift had a handful of friends back home so he knew what it meant to have a bond with someone, but with Rodimus it felt weird. Maybe it was because he was a Prime? Or was it something else?

Lost in his thoughts, he almost failed to watch Master Axe climb aboard the vessel that would take him back to their faraway home. As the gangway rose to seal the entrance of the grand ship, Master Axe turned to give one final wave of farewell. Drift was able to wave back, before the entrance was fully sealed, the engines of the great vessel whirring into life. The last he saw of his sensei was his ancient smiling face. Already the organised crowd around them began to disperse, giving Drift the excuse to walk over to the edge of the platform as the vessel rose higher into the sky. The engines roared louder, and it rose higher and higher, eventually turning towards the horizon. Drift watched with a heavy spark as the ship began to fly further away, the only connection to his homeland onboard and now leaving him in a land he did not fully understand. Clinging to the railings, Drift found it hard to look away, and a small tinge of regret began to creep into his mind.

He continued to watch the ship fly away, even when Optimus Prime, along with Ultra Magnus, came up behind him. The older Prime was clearly concerned with the white mech, after watching his Sensei leave him. Ultra Magnus however didn't seem to care, and appeared eager to leave and carry on with his duties. Rodimus stood nearby, not sure what he should say, and hoped his brother would say something to make Drift feel better. 

Drift almost flinched when Optimus spoke directly behind him, in a low and comforting tone. "I understand that this must feel difficult for you Drift, and there is nothing I can say that will possibly make you feel any better." The older Prime then stepped forward, placing his large hand on Drift's shoulder. "If there is anything you need, anything at all, then do not hesitate to ask for it." They were kind words, but Drift still felt like there was a weight upon his spark.

Ultra Magnus had clearly lost his patience, and stepped forward to address his Commander. "Optimus Prime, there is business that we must attend to. There is no time to dry the tears of this sparkling."

Drift turned, and hissed angrily at the insult. He would not tolerate being treated in such a way with his sensei gone. "I am not a sparkling!" he spat, angry at such a remark. "Can one not feel upset in this land, or do you just lack the emotions to even shed a few tears?" He did not care if this would get him into trouble, but he had enough of this rude and uncaring mech. He didn't even back away when Ultra Magnus glared at him with optics full of rage, his frame trembling with anger, and a ferocious snarl trying to force it's way out of his vocals.

Before he could even step forward to grab the white mech and lecture him, Optimus Prime raised his arm to bar him from doing so. "Ultra Magnus, allow him some space," he ordered, his tone almost harsh, and the glare in his optics colder than the ones he was looking at. Even the way he looked at the rude mech was almost empowering, in a scary way. It was enough to make Ultra Magnus back down. 

Optimus looked back at Drift, the white mech still angry at what Ultra Magnus had said, but a little surprised to see Optimus Prime acting fierce towards another. He was normally so calm and composed, it was alien to see him like that. Then again, he had caught him in odd moods before. The older Prime sighed, his expression tired but with a hint of bitter anger. "I apologise Drift, Ultra Magnus tends to act before thinking." He spat these words out, as if they were poison he had been longing to purge from his oral cavity. 

It was not the way Optimus spoke that surprised Drift, but rather the reaction from Ultra Magnus after hearing what the older Prime had just said. These words, for some unknown reason, made Ultra Magnus's strict expression crumble, his optics widen and his proud composure breaking down into almost nothing. It was as if he had been stabbed with a blade right through his spark. A mech, who was normally so strict about his own stature, that it was shocking to see him in such a state. In fact it was truly bizarre to see a mech like him fall before a simple remark, even if it had come from the lips of a Prime. Drift could feel a horrid sensation of guilt from the rude mech, bitter regret, painful sadness and a terrible desire to repent. Optimus did not look at him, but Drift could see the dark gaze deep in those azure optics, almost as if he was holding back a terrible storm that could smother the world. Ultra Magnus said nothing, but bit his lip so hard he drew blood. His fists then clenched hard until they trembled, until he inhaled deeply, and his usual composure returned.

"Forgive me Optimus Prime," he said in a proud yet quiet voice, "But you are expected at the Autobot Knights Hall for the brief, and we cannot afford to delay it." 

Optimus said nothing nor moved from where he stood. The atmosphere was incredibly tense and Drift found he was actually trembling. Rodimus even looked on with concerned optics, looking back and forth between his brother and Ultra Magnus. Thankfully Optimus finally shifted from his spot, releasing a rough sigh before nodding. Without saying another word, he turned and left, Ultra Magnus waiting a moment or so before following. The white mech watched, both fascinated and confused as the older Prime and the rude mech left, without even announcing their leave.

Once they were gone, Rodimus walked over, bearing a face of concern. "Those two confuse me sometimes," he sighed, kicking a lonely pebble on the ground. "One cycle they're acting like old war buddies, the next cycle Optimus is treating him like slag and Ultra Magnus just takes it."

Drift didn't want to pry, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Is Optimus Prime in another of those moods?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't upset the younger Prime.

Rodimus shook his head, and sighed once more, folding his arms as he did. "I don't know why but... I think Optimus hates Ultra Magnus... but likes him at the same time." Drift blinked after hearing this. None of the words Rodimus just uttered made any sense to the white mech, and he just stared at the young Prime with a lost expression. Rodimus just stood there, looking a little worried. "Ultra Magnus isn't that bad, once you've gotten used to him, and he's apparently the best Vice Commander the Autobot Knights ever had. That and he is a Magnus," he explained.

"A Magnus?" repeated Drift, not realising that the name must have meant something in this land. He had just assumed that it was just a name.

Rodimus nodded and explained further. "The Magnus family has been serving the Primes for eons. They fought wars for us, killed evil tyrants in the name of justice, and they are in charge of the local law enforcement in every city across Cybertronia. Tyrest Magnus is the current head of the family, and after him it will be Ultra Magnus. The pair of them are super strict about law and order, and it's a nightmare if you put them in the same room."

By the blade of Prima, there was two of them? Drift began to dread the idea of meeting two Magnus' and quietly prayed that he would never get caught in a room with the pair of them. If Ultra Magnus was rude and, in his own opinion, evil then imagine what the head of his family must be like. Ten times worse? No, more like a hundred times worse. It would be like two Ultra Magnus', only one of them would be older and more horrid than the other one. Rodimus smirked a little when he spotted Drift's fear, though he couldn't really blame him. "Don't worry, Tyrest Magnus rarely visits the palace."

That made the white mech sigh with relief, though he was still wondering what the deal was between Optimus and Ultra Magnus. "Do they fight sometimes? Your brother and Ultra Magnus, I mean?"

Rodimus shrugged. "I honestly don't know anymore. They were best friends when they were little, but now it's confusing." 

"They've been friends for a long time?" queried Drift, a little curious about their history.

The young Prime nodded. "Yes, when Optimus was about three vorns old, Ultra Magnus was selected to be a companion for him. I think they were paired on purpose though."

"What makes you say that?"

Before Rodimus answered, he looked around to make certain they were truly alone. Once he checked the coast was clear, he stepped forward a little and whispered, "I once overheard some servants talking, that Optimus was supposed to bond with Ultra Magnus, but it never happened."

Drift's optics widened with shock. Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus? Bond? He couldn't even picture it in his mind, for the idea of those two being Bonded was crazy. His curiosity grew even further, and he asked in a low tone, "Why didn't it happen?"

Rodimus shrugged again. "I'm not certain, but apparently my father and Tryrest had arranged the whole thing long ago, but then my father changed his mind and announced that Optimus would bond with..." Rodimus paused for a moment and closed his optics. He looked like he was going to be sick as he uttered the name, "Sir Zeta."

The white mech could not ignore that disgusted look on Rodimus' face. "Who is Sir Zeta?"

The young Prime growled in disgust, and kicked another loose pebble, harder than the last one. Drift actually had to shift back a little, out of fear that Rodimus may hit him. The young Prime looked like he was foaming at the mouth as he spat vile words about this Sir Zeta. "He's a vile, self proclaiming, nut case, who thinks he's the greatest Lord in all the land. He may have won my father's approval, but I can see him for what he truly is! A power mad sadist, who deserves to die! Even Optimus hates him with a passion, and Ultra Magnus thinks he should be locked away. He should be! He's disgusting and... and... I hate him so much!" Rodimus was clearly angry and disgusted by this Sir Zeta, whoever he was. 

Though this was a revealing conversation about the Primes, Rodimus wasn't revealing a whole lot unless prompted to do so. Why did he hate this Sir Zeta so much? What did he do to earn so much hatred from the young Prime? Was he bonded to Optimus Prime? Apparently they were supposed to be but it was never mentioned before. 

He hated to do so, though he secretly wanted to, he had to ask more questions to get his answer. "So... he's bonded to Opt-..."

Before he could even finish that question, Rodimus spun round and stamped his foot so hard on the ground, cracks suddenly formed. "NO! They are not bonded! THEY'RE NOT!" he spat, his face turning red with rage. "Don't you ever say anything like that again!" Drift winced, stepping back and bowing his head in shame. He didn't mean to upset Rodimus, but his curiosity got the better of him. Rodimus vented out his anger for a moment, before realising he had upset his new friend. "I'm... I'm sorry," he gasped, trying to calm down. "It's just that I really, really hate him." 

Drift peered up and he could see that Rodimus was both ashamed and upset that he had thrown such a tantrum before the white mech. He was trying to regain his composure, desperately trying to hide the cracks he formed, but despite his efforts he looked like he was about to burst into another fit. "I'm sorry," he said again in a shaken tone, "Your teacher just left and... and... I'm sorry."

The white mech watched for a moment, as Rodimus tried to straighten himself out, before smiling a little. Though he had only known him for a little while, he knew that the young Prime was being sincere, and was truly sorry for shouting at him in such a way. Though it was partly his fault, for constantly asking all these questions about the life of the Primes, he didn't mean to upset the young Prime. Though it was killing his curiosity, he would have to hold back on these questions. It was not his place to ask about the personal lives of the Primes.

Come to think of it, they were now both in pain. Drift had to watch his teacher leave, and Rodimus had to speak of someone he hated, for reasons unknown. The pair of them were now upset, and in pain. Neither had meant to cause the other to feel this grief, and neither wanted the other to suffer. Though he had decided to stay with Rodimus, Drift still felt the guilty need to return home. However he made a promise to his sensei, and he would stay here until Rodimus came into the age of maturity. The young Prime himself would have to eventually leave these childish fits behind, though he could sense that he did not want to. The white mech could not help but think that Rodimus did not wish for his sixth vorn of life to pass, and that this Sir Zeta had something to do with it.

Deciding it would be best to change the subject, he stepped forward and placed a hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "You know, we haven't found that door yet," he suggested with a grin, "The golden door with the red patterns and the silver maiden? We still have a lot of places to look."

Rodimus stared at him for a moment and was, for once, speechless. It was possible that he was not expecting this from Drift, and wasn't entirely certain how to respond to him. He was even glancing from side to side, his lips opening and shutting as he tried to form words, and his fingers tightening around his golden cloak. Drift had to admit that the young Prime looked adorable when he was tongue tied.

However the moment was quickly lost when Rodimus shook himself, and coughed in  
embarrassment. "Of course we have to," he declared, standing up straight and trying to take control, "I need you to help me find it, so I can discover what lies behind it!"

Drift nodded with a smile, as Rodimus began walking onward. "Come on then! The sooner we locate it the better!" he proclaimed with a proud voice.

The white mech said nothing, but smiled sweetly and followed the young Prime, pausing for a moment to look back, and watch as the the ship carrying his sensei home vanish beyond the horizon. There was no turning back now. For the next two stellar cycles, this would be his home. Turning his back on the distant horizon, he followed the young Prime back into the palace. There were many questions he had, but for now he would ignore his thirst for knowledge, and continue to act as Rodimus Prime's friend.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale

Chapter Four  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - very mild cursing and drinking

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

Carefully wading through a field of crystal tulips, Drift looked around with caution, staying alert and listening for the slightest sound of danger. The great sol was high in the sky, and he actually wished that he had forgotten to polish his armour this morning. His bright armour was a dead giveaway within the crimson that surrounded him, but if he sunk into the beautiful flora, he would be safe. Each step landed without a sound, and he took extra care not to rustle any of the floras around him. He would pause when he detected movement, hoping that his still figure wouldn't attract any attention. He would hold his breath when it got too quiet, praying no one could hear him. Though he had managed to hide in fields of vivid green when he was younger so he could escape from cleaning duties, he wasn't too certain how long he could hide from a young Prime.

In the distance he could hear him cry out. "I'm going to find you Drift!" Drift groaned as he tried to move faster, able to escape from the crimson flora and flee the garden, running into another.

Ever since Rodimus forced him into a game of hide and seek, he had been running from garden to garden, courtyard to courtyard, all to evade the young Prime. So far he had managed to avoid getting caught, but Rodimus was getting closer and closer. He had hidden behind bushes, crawled under benches, stood behind trees, and even stuck close to shadows. Despite his skills, the young Prime still managed to keep up with him. He was certain he would be able to lose him within this enormous palace, but somehow Rodimus knew where he was going. All he could do was to continue to evade him; otherwise he would get caught and would have to carry out a dare for the young Prime.

That was how this whole thing started. Rodimus tried to get Drift to do something he didn't want to do, so he challenged him to a game of hide and seek. If he caught the white mech, then Drift would have to accept any dare that he would give to him. At first Drift thought this would be easy, thinking he could lose the young Prime within a matter of clicks. Yet somehow Rodimus was able to keep up with him. All Drift could do was get as far away from the young Prime as he could.

Running into another garden, he looked around until he spotted a gazebo covered in emerald vines and flora, and decided that it would be the perfect place to hide, for a little while. Sprinting across the garden, he ran into the gazebo and hide behind one of the pillars. He peered out and was certain he saw a flash of golden red in the previous garden. He couldn't detect anyone coming from that garden, and was fairly certain that he had at long last lost Rodimus.

"Thank the blade," he sighed, resting his helm against the pillar.

"So Rodimus is hunting you down, eh?"

The sudden voice almost made Drift jump out of his armour, and he spun round to find himself staring into a tired, old, yet dapper face. He almost cried out and pressed up against the very pillar he used as a hiding place, though it didn't help him now. How was it that he failed to sense that someone was sitting in this very gazebo? This had never happened before! It must have been because he was so focused on avoiding Rodimus that he failed to sense the life force of others. Once he had calmed down, and was able to focus properly, he tried to figure out on who he was looking at.

After a few clicks he finally recognised who it was that sat before him. It was that healer, the head healer, Ratchet, sitting within the gazebo, with a few data pads and a bottle of strong scented of energon wine. He was sitting in the shade, his white and red armour blending into the surrounding, which would explain why Drift never saw him to begin with. The healer merely looked at Drift, neither amused nor annoyed. He just sipped some of the energon, and sighed, crossing his legs as he nestled into a relaxed position. Drift could only stare back at the healer, uncertain what to say, or even do. He remembered what Prowl had told him about this Ratchet. He remembered when he saw him for the first time; in a mood so foul that he doubted even Ultra Magnus would dare face him. What should he do? Leave him? Stay? What?

The head healer took another sip of his energon, before saying something to the white mech. "Give it a bit and he'll run off to the next courtyard," he said in a relaxed tone, "Soon something will distract him, and he'll forget that he was even looking for you." 

Drift sighed in relief. The healer must be in a good mood or something. Or maybe he was lulling him into a false sense of security before attacking him with vulgar language. Whatever what was to come, the white mech thought it would be best to leave him alone. He had seen him on a bad mood upon their first meeting, and he never thought in his whole life he would meet someone who managed to make Grand Master Dai Atlus look like a timid turbofox pup. This Ratchet was giving off a complex aura, but Drift could see a bitter cold, yet strong willed persona lurking within the old healer, and Drift could not help but feel drawn to it.

The healer just stared at him, pulling his lips back into a frown. "I don't bite kid, so either sit down and hide, or leave and get caught." It was like an order, and Drift quickly sat down on a bench, sitting opposite of the healer. He just stared at him, rolling his optics as he took another sip of his energon. "Primus..." he muttered.

Well this was awkward. Terribly awkward. Drift was starting to think it would be best if he just ran out, and allow Rodimus to catch him. Who knows, the challenge the young Prime had in store for him would be ten times better than sitting here with the gruff healer. He could not help but feel that he was in constant danger around him. Should he start off a conversation? Maybe inquire into what he was reading, or what brand of energon wine he was drinking? No, these were silly and pitiful ways to break the ice, yet he had to say something. The silence was started to kill him, and the heavy air between them was overwhelming. The breeze offered some comfort, gently swaying some decorative wind chimes. He could hear the distant chatter of servants and knights, and even Rodimus' call was starting to become faint. The calming notes the cyber-aves sung, and the calming atmosphere of the garden was enough to keep him relaxed. Still the air within the gazebo was anything but relaxing.

Looking up at Ratchet, Drift parted his lips and was about to query about his reading material, when the gruff healer looked up and beat him to the punch. "So enjoying your stay? Rodimus isn't torturing you behind our backs, is he?"

Drift shook his head. "Oh no he isn't, I can assure you, though he's a little... a little..." Drift desperately tried to find the right, and polite word, he could use, but Ratchet finished it for him. "He's driving you up the wall already?" The gruff healer laughed, as Drift's face flustered into an embarrassing shade of pink, but he did nod.

"I am enjoying my time spent with him," explained the white mech, not wanting to be pitied upon for the wrong reason, "But there are some sols when I wish he would allow the both of us to relax." This was true in many ways. He did enjoy some of the games and tasks Rodimus set out for them, but lately it was starting to pile up, and Drift was getting exhausted before the games.

Ratchet smirked, before gulping back another mouthful of his energon. "Well you're the first companion he ever had. That little punk has been dying to have someone he could play with." The healer paused when he noticed the unpleased expression Drift bore when he addressed Rodimus Prime as a 'punk', almost forgetting that Drift still held respect for him and his heritage. "Relax kid, it's not like I'm calling him the spawn of Unicron. I think someone called him that once though." Ratchet laughed at his own humour, but Drift felt a little uncomfortable. This healer had a very bizarre way of talking, and he didn't seem to hold a lot of respect for the Primes.

"Well... he may be over active, but he has taught me a lot about you land," explained Drift, shifting a little closer than he would have dared. "He's quite interesting, once you've gotten used to him, and he is actually helping me understand your written words."

The healer looked back at unimpressed. "At least he isn't moping around anymore," he wearied, taking another swig of his energon. "Getting stuck with him in one of his bad moods was a nightmare in itself. I almost felt sorry for you when I heard they were bringing someone in to be his new playmate." He laughed when Drift glared at him, the white mech not realising he was doing so.

Wanting to change the subject, to one that would end quickly so he could leave, Drift shifted a little closer and asked, "How long have you worked here?" He hoped it would be a short answer, for whenever he asked something like that back home; the conversation was over within a matter of nano-clicks.

The healer pondered on this, seemly trying to remember when he started his career as the head healer of the Primes. "It was back during the Kanolite rebellions... I think. I was just a trainee at the time, but my talent caught the attention of Tyrest Magnus, and he brought me to the palace of the Primes to become an assistant to the current head healer. Nothing fancy kid, I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

That last sentence confused Drift. "You mean... you don't like working here?"

Ratchet groaned, as if he had revealed something he didn't want anyone to know. He just shrugged and took another long drink. "A little of yes, and a little of no. Mostly no."  
The healer puffed out a heavy energon scented sigh. "I can leave if I want to, but I can't."

The healer chuckled in a sad way, and Drift could even sense that the gruff healer was sad about something. Did he truly not like working here? Why? To work in the palace of the Primes must have been a dream job for many, but he guessed that this was a job that the healer did not want. Maybe someone here was giving him a hard time or something, or maybe there was somewhere else he'd rather be. Still if he could leave whenever he wanted, what was keeping him from going? Drift could only assume that it had something to do with the duty of a healer, or something. He didn't wish to pry any further, and tried to think of a way to get away without making a big deal out of this.

Standing up, he cleared his throat and bowed. "I thank you for your company healer Ratchet, but I have to-"

Before he could even finish, he quickly noticed that Ratchet was ignoring him and looking over his shoulder, a serious and concerned expression upon his face. Out of curiosity, Drift looked over his own shoulder, and out of the corner of his optics, he spotted a flash of dark blue disappear into an archway that lead to the next garden. He didn't see who it was, but Ratchet must have recognised whoever it was, because the next thing Drift knew the healer was standing up, and gently but quickly pushing him aside.

"Stay here," he ordered, striding towards the archway where the flash disappeared into.

Drift watched as the healer quickly walked off and disappeared into the next garden, without saying another word. The white mech could sense he was concerned about something, and angry at the same time, so it would be best not to do or say anything. Did he spot someone he knew? Maybe it was someone who trashed his healing chambers and he wanted to get his revenge. His fists were clenched, and his stride was wide and fast. Where ever he was going, he wanted to get there fast and he was angry about it. It would be best if he waited, and now that he had the gazebo all to himself, he could easily hide within it, without a gruff healer to share it with. He relaxed into the seat, but not before looking around to make certain Rodimus wasn't about to sneak up on him. Once he was completely certain he was alone, he sat down and relaxed, kicking his legs in the air. 

As time passed he peered at Ratchet's reading material. It was nothing interesting, just a few volumes about the healing arts, and the science of medical research. He peeped inside them, but he couldn't understand the writing. He took a sniff of the energon wine, and almost dropped the bottle for the strength of the smell was overwhelming. He decided to leave the healer's stuff alone, just in case he would suffer under his wrath, just for looking at them. Time continued to pass, and Drift began to wonder if Rodimus had wandered into another part of the palace looking for him. He also wondered what was keeping Ratchet. He wanted to leave now, but he was afraid that the healer would get mad at him for leaving his stuff unintended. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Drift was getting bored. 

Standing up he looked around, and decided that he would venture into the previous garden, and hopefully he would bump into Rodimus. Walking towards the archway that would lead him back to the previous garden, he suddenly jumped back when Rodimus Prime suddenly rushed through. The young Prime didn't see him as he crashed against a wall, leaned on it for support, and began to heave heavily. It all happened so fast that Drift barely had any time to react. He wasn't sure what to question first. Why was Rodimus running, or what was wrong with him? Did he bump into Ratchet? Maybe that was it, he bumped into Ratchet, Ratchet was in a bad mood, and tried to take it out on him, forcing the young Prime to flee. Yes, that must be what had happened.

He stepped forward, reaching out to place a hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "I guess you were too fast for the head healer, huh?" said the white mech with a laugh, imagining the young Prime trying to avoid an angry healer.

The moment his hand came into contact with the young Prime's shoulder, Rodimus suddenly spun round and slapped his hand away, followed by a small squeak of surprise. Drift winced, and stepped back, massaging his tingling hand. He looked back at Rodimus to see that he was... scared. Drift had to blink twice to make certain he was correct, and to his shock he was. There was no other way to describe it, Rodimus Prime stood there with swollen optics, his frame trembling, and it looked like he was trying to hold back a sob. He was scared, terrified even. It was as if someone had shaken him up, and not in a way he was used to. Rodimus had been told off before, in ways that almost scared the white mech, but Rodimus would simply bounce back with a grin and laugh it off, but now... now he looked like he just got the telling off of a lifetime, and he couldn't handle it. Drift could feel the fear wafting off him, but he also felt sadness and shame. In fact that was the white mech could sense the most; a whole lot of shame and humiliation. There was also an odd smell, but it was foreign to him.

Before he could even ask what was wrong, Rodimus stood up and straightened himself out, wiping his optics, as if to make certain there were no lose tears. Drift said nothing as the young Prime looked at him, using a face that masked his emotions in an obvious way. "So I finally found you," he declared, but not in a joyous way. His tone sounded strong but it crumbled with every word. "Well now that I have located you, let's go get a drink. I'm thirsty," ordered the young Prime. He then started walking, but not before wobbling a bit, towards the palace's main body.

Drift watched him as he walked, confused and a little upset. What was wrong? He had never seen Rodimus like this before, and it would be a lie to say he wasn't the least bit concerned. Something had happened that caused him to become upset, and he was clearly trying to hide it from him. Should he ask? Or would it best to leave it alone? Rodimus usually told him what upset him, but it was clear that he didn't want to discuss it. It was possible he got told off by someone, and that the subject was rather sensitive. So for now, for the young Prime's sake, he would ignore it and act like nothing happened.

Jogging over to the young Prime, he began to walk beside him, and tried his best to smile a little. "Do you think we can have some of that rust berry energon?" he asked, hoping that Rodimus would at least talk to him. "I really liked it, and it tastes great with those oil pastries." The young Prime stopped walking and looked at him, his face blank and unreadable.

The white mech could do nothing but stare back, smiling in a clumsy way and trying to look optimistic. He was hoping Rodimus would smile back, but so far he was getting nothing, not even a blink. It was just as awkward when he sat with Ratchet, only now he truly did not know what to do. He couldn't run away from him, not right now. The young Prime may not admit it, but he needed someone to stand by him right now and Drift wasn't going to leave him. Should he at least say something about what happened? No, he couldn't, for he was certain that the young Prime wasn't in a talking mood.

However, thank the blade of Prima, Rodimus finally spoke. "I suppose I can convince the servants to fetch us some," he sighed.

Drift had to keep it going, anything to reignite the young Prime's enthusiasm. "And if you want, I can sneak into the kitchens and liberate some cookies?" he suggested, something he normally wouldn't suggest.

That actually made Rodimus step back with surprise. "You mean the ones they baked this morning? The ones made for that meeting for the Temple of Primus' priests and the high priest?" Drift swallowed hard as he nodded, and mentally noted that he would give five extra prayers to Primus this evening. 

Thankfully this simple suggestion actually made Rodimius grin, and he tugged upon the white mech's arm. "Come on then! We can replace their cookies with mulch pies!"

Drift groaned as Rodimus pulled him along, now realising that he would have to pray twenty times to Primus and beg for his forgiveness. Still he was able to make the young Prime smile again, and forget whatever upset him. He wanted to ask, hoping there was something he could do, but decided that it was something he should not get involved in. Besides it must have been a simple telling off and Rodimus wasn't in good mood to receive it. He would eventually see him like this again, and he would simply help him get back to normal. Simple really.

As the two young mechs ran off to sneak into the kitchens, Ratchet returned from the previous garden, grumbling as he sat back down into the gazebo. The gruff healer sighed angrily as he took a long swig of his energon wine, slamming the bottle down hard on the bench. He cursed a few foul words under his breath and once more, downed the bottle of energon wine.

His mood swing was interrupted when a tall shadow was cast over him. Glancing up, he sneered, and proceeded to ignore the one who stood behind him. "Frag off Ultra Magnus, though it doesn't surprise me you were around," he snarled viciously, waving an arm as if to shoo him away.

Ultra Magnus frowned, glaring at the bottle of energon wine rather than the healer. "I thought I told you that drinking at this cycle and in a public garden was forbidden!"

Ratchet snorted with a sarcastic grin. "Pah, don't try and change the subject," he spat, taking another and final swig of the bottle's remaining contents. "You knew what was going to happen, and you couldn't resist looking." The healer looked up and was almost pleased that he managed to make the Magnus look a little uncomfortable. "One Prime wasn't enough, eh?" he sneered.

That actually made Ultra Magnus snarled, and he resisted raising his fist. Instead he exhaled heavily, and continued to glare down at the gruff healer. "What about you? Going around getting drunk when you're too damn scared to even act on your own impulses?" he snapped, folding his arms as he stared down at Ratchet. "You don't even like him, but you stay anyway because of-"

He was cut off when Ratchet stood up and snarled at him. "At least I don't go and solve the problem in a berth!"

The two mechs glared viciously at each other, the tension between them growing by the nano-click, and murder was sighted within their optics. Their bitterness towards each other was as strong as any liquor brewed, and their rage fuelled by their constant hateful bickering. Whatever transpired between them was feeding the hidden rage, burning deep within their sparks. They hated each other, blamed each other, but also blamed themselves, and in a strange twist of irony, used their guilt to fuel the rage they had for the other. There was no room for forgiveness, for their dark anger shrouded any hope of admitting their shame. There was only hatred, anger and guilt.

They would have launched at each other if not for a timely interruption by the captain of the Autobot Knights, Sir Prowl. The captain thankfully had not noticed the vile tension between the two mechs, as he was completely focused on his job. "Ultra Magnus sir, there has been an incident in the northern most district of the city, and your presence is required at once."

It was unclear if Prowl was aware of the growing tension, or if he was just ignoring it, but thankfully his presence was able to make the two angry mechs calm down. Ultra Magnus sighed angrily but stepped back, not wanting the captain to see him go into a pointless fit of rage. 

Instead he turned to leave with Prowl, but not before giving the Captain a command, out loud. "Prowl, give Ratchet here a fine for drinking in a public garden. If he's caught again, he'll spend a sol in irons." Prowl nodded obediently, and quickly took a note, ignoring the healer's cold glare. 

The two walked off, leaving Ratchet all alone in the garden. The healer quietly sighed in annoyance and looked up towards the heavens. The golden rose coloured sky did little to improve his mood. He looked down at his empty bottle, annoyed that he finished it too quickly. Sighing he leaned back and just stared up as high as he could, beyond the sky, beyond the stars, and the violet darkness between them. How he wished he could fade into that darkness and live besides those stars illuminating the heavens. Anything was better than staying here. He wanted to leave more than anything... but his spark told him otherwise. 

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale

Chapter Five  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - sharp objects

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

Rodimus was bouncing upon the tips of his pedes as Sir Kup began to pry open a large box, that sat innocently upon a bench. He kept running from one end to the other, releasing small whines of need, and tiny whimpers of want. Despite his eagerness and impatience, he was doing very well not to demand the leader of the Wrecker Knights to hurry up. Sir Kup chewed on his cygar, seemly opening the large box in a slow manner on purpose. Drift stood nearby, wondering how Rodimus would react when he would see what weapon he and Master Axe had agreed upon. He hoped he would like it, and he was certain that the young Prime would master it within a matter of orbital cycles. 

The box containing the weapon for Rodimus had arrived early this morning. Rodimus somehow knew and dragged Drift out of his berth, so he could be there once it was open. Sir Kup had awoken early too, knowing he wouldn't hear the end of it if he woke up late, like he normally did. Drift hoped, nay, knew that the young Prime would be able to handle the surprise weapon with ease. He had the power in his arms to do so, so there was no real concern. Plus the blacksmith was on standby, ready to adjust the said weapon, just in case it was too big or too small.

Once the final latch was released, Rodimus released another impatient whine, only louder than before. "Come on Kup, I wanna see it already!" he groaned, trying to stop himself from jumping onto elder knight's back.

Kup snorted at him, chewing on his cygar and shifting it to the other side of his mouth. "Have some darn patience, lad," he barked, pausing on purpose. "Who knows what is in this box, and since it's from Crystal City, it could have one of their crazy gizmos in there!"

That didn't seem to work on the young Prime, and he pouted at the elder knight. "Don't pretend you don't know what’s in there Kup, I already know that Master Axe told you!"

Drift could not help but laugh as Sir Kup began to curse out loud and gently pushed the young Prime out of the way. At long last, the elder knight opened the box and peered in to inspect the contents. Rodimus desperately tried to peer in, but Sir Kup blocked his view, growling at him as he did so. The white mech smiled as he walked over, just as the elder knight pulled out the weapon within. The impatient Prime tried to get a better look, but Sir Kup made certain that he couldn't see it just yet.

"Jus' a sec lad, I just' have to check it over. So wait a couple more clicks," growled the elder knight, examining what he held in his arms.

Rodimus release a loud impatient groan. "Oh come on already, you old bucket of scrap! Let me see already!" 

Kup growled at the young Prime, and for a moment the young mechs assumed he wasn't going to reveal the weapon and put it away for another sol. thankfully the elder knight seemed to be in a good mood, and must have decided to let that little name calling slide, for now. He turned to face the young mechs, keeping the weapon hidden by shifting behind his back. Rodimus whined loudly and pulled his lips back into a pitiful snarl, he was just about ready to burst what with all the waiting. In truth it wasn't that long, but Drift had come to learn that even two clicks were too long for Rodimus Prime.

The elder knight grinned in a cunning way, leaning down until he was about optic level with the young Prime. "OK lad, you can have your new doo hicky, if ya say, please!"

Rodimus looked like he was about to blow a fuse upon hearing such a request. "Y-you... you dare demand me, a Prime, to beg for what is rightfully mine?" he snapped, stamping his foot on the ground hard. "Stop playing around, and show me!"

His loud and almost convincing argument was answered with a small smack on his helm, followed by a small 'ow' from Rodimus. Even Drift could not help but laugh as Sir Kup scolded the angry young Prime, whilst he in return continued to demand and order him about. It seemed that the elder knight was not going to hand it over until Rodimus showed him at least some respect. Sadly even something like that seemed impossible, knowing Rodimus, and if he wanted to receive his new weapon so badly, then he was going to have to, for once, show some reverence for his mentor. 

Drift knew he was going to have to intervene, and he caught Rodimus' attention by pulling on his shoulder. The young Prime looked to him, but still bore an expression of annoyance. "Rodimus, in my land even we show respect to our sensei's and mentors, and receiving a weapon from one is a great honour," explained Drift, hoping what he would say would get the young Prime to comply. "Sir Kup here has dedicated his life to helping you achieve perfection, sacrificing his very time to help you in your endeavours, and just as I have respected and loved my sensei, I wish for you to do the same to yours." He hoped these words would have some effect, though he wasn't actually expecting much.

The young Prime however did change his expression to one of sympathy. Unbeknownst to Drift, young Rodimus recalled when the white mech's sensei left him, almost an orbital cycle ago. He knew that Drift was still upset about the whole thing, and though Rodimus would never admit it, he envied the relationship between Drift and Master Axe. Sir Kup was indeed a great mentor, teaching him many techniques and training him to become even better than his brothers. Despite his gruff attitude, he was a dedicated teacher and Rodimus was lucky to have him. Sadly his stubbornness and pride prevented him from forming any special relationship with Sir Kup, though in some sense they did have a special if not weird relationship. He didn't want to but he guess that for once, he would show him some form of respect. 

Sighing, Rodimus looked up at Sir Kup and spoke through his teeth, "Please Sir Kup, may I have the weapon that was intended for me?" The young Prime seemed to be trembling, but Drift could only guess that Rodimus was doing his best to force it all out.

Sir Kup looked like he was about to laugh, but he instead coughed and once again shifted the cygar in his mouth. He then stood up straight, and began to talk as if he was presenting an award. "Very well then, Rodimus Prime," he declared, "Thanks to the Circle of Crystal City, I now bestow upon you a weapon that they have deemed fit for you to wield. Accept it with pride and honour." 

Then at last, he brought his arms around from behind his back and presented Rodimus with the very weapon he had been waiting for. Rodimus looked at Kup's arms with wide optics, and for a moment he did nothing but stare. Drift's spark began to pulse fast out of anticipation, hoping that the young Prime would react in a way that was rewarding for the both of them. However Rodimus continued to stare, not uttering a single word. Drift was starting to worry that the young Prime didn't like what he was looking at, and even Sir Kup seemed bewildered.   
Rodimus then looked up at Kup, and then at Drift, and the back at the weapon. "What... is it?" he asked.

Sir Kup chuckled as he held the weapons up for a better look. In his hands was a pair of strange looking devices, with straps, thin strong wires, and with three sharp blades attached to each of them. There was no handle to hold them; in fact the young Prime wasn't even sure how to hold them. The wires seemed odd and out of place, and he wasn't even sure what to make of the straps. He also didn't seem too impressed that, despite there being three blades on each pair, they were rather short. The design of this strange weapon was throwing Rodimus off, for they confused him rather than excite him. Drift knew it was time to step in and explain; hoping his explanation and demonstration of the weapon would help ease Rodimus' concern.

"These are what we call, anstatsu blades, or assassin blades Rodimus," explained Drift, taking one of the devices from Sir Kup and proceeded to demonstrate. "You see, this is grafted onto your forearm armour, and when you activate this part with one of your nerve wiring..." as Drift spoke, he tugged on one of the wires, and Rodimus almost jumped back when the three blades extended suddenly, humming in an azure light, displaying their power and their beauty. Drift waved it around a little, the blades hummed louder with each movement. "They rely on the strength of your arms to damage your foes, and despite their name they are actually very decent and commendable weapons. We even have a whole section of the Circle dedicated to mastering these blades, and several arts based on them." He pulled the wire again, causing the blades to shrink back into the device that held them.

Rodimus had watched and listened, his optics now focused on the weapons in Drift's hands. Both Drift and Sir Kup waited, hoping that Rodimus would accept them, but his prolonged silence was started to worry them.

"Don't you like them, Rodimus?" asked Drift, concerned that the young Prime wasn't saying anything. Didn't he like them? Wasn't he impressed? He thought he would be, but his silence was starting to worry him.

The young Prime finally reacted, looking up at Drift. "Like them?" he repeated. There another period of silence, and once more the white mech assumed that Rodimus was displeased with the choice of weapon. However Rodimus suddenly grinned rushed forward and took hold of the weapon in Drift's hand. "I love it!" he exclaimed, pulling the wire and watching in awe as the blades extended once more.

Drift sighed in relief, and Sir Kup laughed, smacking the white mech on the back. As the elder knight stepped forward to take the weapon off of Rodimus, Drift felt pleased with himself, and his pride began to swell up until it was about ready to burst. He was overjoyed that the young Prime was delighted with the weapon he had come up with for him, and he could see it in Rodimus' optics that he was deeply intrigued by the blades. He honestly did not know how he would react to such a weapon, but the result was worth it. Of course this was just the first part, the next part was to see it Rodimus could actually wield them.

Rodimus growled angrily as Sir Kup took the weapon from him. "Now, now lad," he shouted, keeping the young Prime from grabbing them out of his hands. "We have to remove your forearm armour, graft these in, and take them for a test!"

The young Prime moaned in annoyance, but complied with the order. Without another word he hopped on the bench, and raised his arms obediently. Kup placed the weapons down, and stood before Rodimus, reaching for the armour protecting his arms. Drift walked over and watched, curious if Iaconians were different compared to the citizens of Crystal City. Sir Kup carefully removed the armour, the young Prime hissing a little as his nerve wiring detached them from the crimson armour. As the armour was pulled away, Rodimus' bare protoform limbs were laid bare, the nerve wiring seeping back within the seams of his body. 

Drift wasn't at all surprised to see that Iaconians were the same as those of Crystal City, though he was expecting it to be a little different. The way their armour worked of course. In truth all of the mechs of Cybertronia were born with no armour, and no mesh clothing adorning their bodies. They were born with protoform bodies, made of metal flesh and hydraulic muscles, protecting their spark chamber. Over time, and when they were old enough, energon would be drained from within their spark chamber, otherwise known as innermost energon. This precious fluid would be fused into the metal that would serve as their armour that would mould itself to shape the body it fused with. In some sense, armour was like a second skin to their kind. One can sense if someone touches them, as if they were touching the skin of their protoform, and vice versa with pain. It can be removed, and even replaced, as long as the nerve wiring from the main body detaches safely.

It could even be removed to have attachments added, such as the anstatsu blades. These attachments could be activated without physical touch, just by using the nerve wiring that would link itself up with them. Rodimus could easily wield them, and activate them within a nano-click, just by thinking about it. The young Prime was a quick thinker, one of the many reasons why Drift thought these weapons would suit him. Already the blacksmith was working on grafting the blades onto Rodimus' armour, something that could take a while, but the young Prime didn't seem bothered. He just kicked his legs in the air as the smith and Sir Kup worked on grafted the blades onto his armour.

The young Prime looked towards Drift, and smiled. "I can't wait to try them out!" he stated in an excited way. "I bet I'll even be able to enter a tournament against Sentinel! What do you think Drift?"

The white mech looked at him confused. "A tournament?" he asked, confused by the term and that it had something to do with his new blades. He remembered hearing such a word in his youth, but until now he had never understood it.

Rodimus nodded and explained. "There are regular tournaments held by the common folk, and some held by the knights, but the one I'm talking about is the only one that I and my brothers can enter, the one held here right in the palace." The young Prime seemed excited as he spoke of it, and Drift grew more curious. "It's just for fun, but if you do really well in them, you can stand before the ruling Prime and have anything you wish granted! I haven't been able to enter, because of you-know-what, but if I train really hard, I can enter the upcoming one!"

"So... it's like a sparring contest? You spar against each other?" queried Drift, wanting to be certain he understood.

"Yes, only high ranked knights can enter, unless you've hand selected by either the knight commanders, or by one of the Primes," continued Rodimus, allowing Drift to sit next to him. "I'm not allowed to select anyone until I'm old enough, but I can enter as long as Kup over there says I'm OK to do so." Rodimus grinned with glee, as he thought about the tournament. "If I win, I have a special wish I want granted!"

"I seriously doubt that, little brother!"

The two young mechs jumped when a loud and defiant voice suddenly rang through the air. They looked up, and both were shocked to see none other than Sentinel Prime standing before them. Rodimus bit his lip in anger, whilst Drift looked up at him and marvelled at his proud aura. Sentinel Prime was pure perfection in the white mech's optics, living proof of what a Prime should be like. His beautiful colours, his gorgeous armour, and that god like aura. He was the pinnacle of perfection in the standards of Prime, no offence to Rodimus and Optimus, and Drift could only hope to see more of him, and hopefully even speak with him. Sadly, their past encounters made the white mech look like a pitiful infant in his optics. He could only hope that in the future, Sentinel Prime would regard him as a mature member of the circle.

Sentinel smirked as he looked down at the young mechs. "Rodimus, my dear little brother, you should know that you are not fit enough to enter the palace tournament," he teased, patting Rodimus' helm in a mock display of affection. "Our dear father wouldn't want to see you all cut up, now would he?"

Rodimus growled, pushing his brother's hand away. "It isn't for another four orbital cycles!" he snapped, "I have plenty of time to train and get father's approval!"

That earned him nothing but a snort of laughter from the elder Prime. "Even if you were to get ready in that amount of time, I still doubt you will get approval. After all, you contributed nothing to the trophy room."

Hearing that remark, followed by a smirk, Rodimus suddenly roared with anger and pushed his elder brother back. "Shut up and leave me alone! I will enter that tournament and beat you and everyone in it!"

"With those pitiful things?" sneered Sentinel, noticing Rodimus' new blades, currently being grafted onto his forearm armour. "You couldn't even slice the throat of a turborat with those things." 

"Those are my new blades Drift picked for me," retorted Rodimus, patting Drift on the back as he spoke, "And he says they're perfect for me, right Drift?"

Drift flinched when he realised he had been dragged into the brothers quarrel, and it was something he did not want to be part of. The last thing he wanted was to fuel the need for two Primes to argue with each other. He had hoped they would have ignored him, but the young Prime dragged him into it regardless. He cautiously peered up at Sentinel Prime who glared down at him.

"Is that so?" he sighed, making the white mech feel uncomfortable. "I suppose you would want to enter the tournament as his second then?"

Second? What does that mean? Was it a tournament term? Did it mean that he would sit on the sideline and watch Rodimus fight? Drift wanted to ask, but he couldn't find the courage to ask such a question. The way Sentinel Prime glared at him made him feel insecure, as if anything he said sounded like nonsense to him. He had already offended this Prime so many times, that he didn't wish to offend him any further. He so wanted him to at least look at him with respect, but so far it was nothing but glares. Drift looked to Rodimus, desperate for an answer.

The young Prime saw his plea, and answered for him. "Of course he is. He's the best swordsmech I've ever seen. He's even better that you!"

Drift gasped upon hearing this, and was speechless. He looked back and forth between Rodimus and Sentinel, fearing what was to come. No, he wasn't, there was no way he was better than Sentinel Prime. He hadn't even seen him in combat, but he knew for certain that not even he could be better than him. He was so mighty and strong, and that was just from looking at him. Drift had already learned of his accomplishments, and they were indeed grand accomplishments. He wanted to say something, to say that Rodimus was just spouting nonsense, but already Sentinel Prime was giving him his signature glare.

"Is that so," he hissed, releasing an aura of rage and spite. "Very well then Rodimus, if you are indeed ready for the next tournament, and as long as Sir Kup and father agree, then your little friend here can be your second."

Rodimus gave his brother a defiant grin, and before Drift could even say anything, the young Prime declared, "Oh we'll beat you, and you'll be begging for mercy once we're done with you!"

Drift's head was spinning, as the Prime's continued to argue with each other. What was going on? What was Rodimus dragging him into? What exactly does one do in this tournament? What was this about begging for mercy? What in the name of the blade was a second? Who were they beating? What the frag was going on? Lost in his thoughts, Sentinel Prime took his leave, whilst Rodimus gave the bewildered Drift a confident nudge, declaring how they would both beat his horrible big brother. 

Sir Kup looked on, and sighed. "If those two do end up competing, I'm gonna fragging regret it."


	6. Chapter 6

**_Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale_ **

****_Chapter Six_  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - A little body contact, and curious thoughts 

\--------

_Key_  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years 

\--------

Chilled energon with spices mixed in had never tasted so sweet, as Drift gulped down the contents of his glass, his tanks desperate for fuel, and the cool sensation of the liquid running down his throat was blessing. On a warm sol like this, Drift was thankful that a servant was on standby with a large beaker of the sweet nectar for him to consume in case he over heated. Of course it wasn't there for him; it was there for Rodimus, who was continuing his training with the anstatsu blades, despite the overpowering heat. The white mech was indeed impressed with Rodimus' commitment to perfect his skill under this heat. Back in Crystal City it rarely got this hot, and when it did they would retreat indoors, where it was cooler. Here in Iaconia, the only place they could train was outside in the heat, with the blazing sol burning the very air around them.

Drift gasped for air as he finally finished his drink, and looked over at Rodimus, who was currently attacking a target dummy. One orbital cycle hadn't even passed, and the young Prime had almost mastered the use of the anstatsu blades. Thankfully Sir Kup had some experience with the weapon, and had taught the young Prime the basics, including blocking, striking and even sneak attacks. There were sols when he was doing well and sols when he was bad. Other sols, he would continue to train with the arcane bow, as well as conducting wrist exercises to strengthen them. That was the young Prime's current weakness, and possibly the reason he wasn't too good with handheld weapons. His forearms however were very strong, and perfect for the blades he now possessed.

He could not help but admire how well the anstatsu blades had been grafted onto his forearm armour. They looked so natural upon his frame, and made him even look more stunning and gave one the impression that he was skilled fighter. When he first put them on, he had trouble activating them at first since he wasn't used to activating his new nerve line. When he finally got the hang of it, he wouldn't stop extending them over and over. He then ran around and started showing them off to whoever he could find, even Ultra Magnus and the gruff healer Ratchet. Drift chased after him, worried he would hurt himself out of the excitement. Thankfully Sir Kup had decided to place a safety switch on them, one that Rodimus could not activate himself, therefore preventing him from using them no matter how hard he tried. All it took was for Ratchet to install a safety switch upon them, and designed it in a way that only Sir Kup and he could activate. This was the one thing that angered Rodimus, but he complied with it rather easily. Too easily in fact.

At least he looked happy now, and he was determined on mastering his new blades. At long last he found something he could wield with ease. Even Optimus had come by to watch him train, and promised him if he did well, he would actually spar with him. Rodimus was overjoyed to hear this, for he was never allowed to spar with anyone, let alone his own brothers. Optimus Prime did voice his concern about his little brothers plan to enter the palace tournament though, but Sir Kup assured him that he was getting better with each passing sol. If he did wind up being able to join in, then Optimus wouldn't have to worry about anything.

Speaking of the tournament, Drift himself was having concerns, after Rodimus explained the whole thing to him bit by bit. It all sounded like his spars and duals back home, only on a grander scale, and it was starting to get the white mech nervous. Not about the fighting itself, but the fighting against a Prime was what had him concerned. Since Drift was in the middle of training to become a full fledge member of the Circle, he wasn't certain if he was actually allowed to dual a Prime. Grand Master Dai Atlas explained that only fully fledged members of the circle could spar against a Prime. Drift began to panic because he wasn't a proper member of the Circle, and he could get into trouble for to duel with a Prime. To be certain, he sent a data slug back home, explaining what was happening and if he was allowed to dual against a Prime, should he face one.

Rodimus had teased him about it, saying he shouldn't worry if he were to end up fighting either Optimus or Sentinel. Optimus was decent fighter, and a fair one. It was Sentinel they had to watch out for, since he had a nasty reputation for injuring his duelling partners in horrific ways. Drift refused to believe that Sentinel Prime would do the same to Rodimus, but the young Prime told him of the time when Sentinel duelled Optimus, and apparently their duel got quite nasty. It lasted four three sols straight, neither Prime letting up, until their father stepped in and announced it was a tie. Drift was shocked but awestruck after leaning this. A battle that lasted for three sols straight must have been... well, as Rodimus would say, awesome! Especially since it was against two Primes.

At least it wasn't a fight to the death, for the one rule in the tournament was simple; you have to knock your opponent’s weapon out of his hand. The moment your weapon left your hand and hit the floor, you lost. Seemed safe, though Drift pointed out that the young Prime's new blades were attached to him, so that didn't really seem fair. His mech blood ran cold however, after Rodimus told him about the time a knight who fought with his fists entered the tournament, but lost after three rounds when he got them sliced off. If that was right, then if Rodimus did enter, then he was at risk of having his arms chopped off. The young Prime was aware of this, but he declared that as long as he kept up with his training, there was no way he was losing his arms. 

Drift smiled as he watched Rodimus train, grabbing two glasses of the cool energon before walking over to see him. The young Prime was so full of confidence and so committed to his training, that the white mech felt a strange sense of pride as he looked at him. He couldn't believe that Rodimus expressed no fear when he spoke of the tournament. He was aware he could lose both his limbs, but still didn't hint any kind of fear. Sure, you can get your arms reattached, but losing a limb was still as painful as getting stabbed through the spark. Still, he was confident he could win, certain he could win, and even if he did get a get cuts and slashes here and there, he didn't care. Drift could only hope he would have that kind of confidence one sol.

Rodimus paused in his work out, to look at Drift. "What are staring at me like that for?" he asked,

Drift jumped when he realised he had been staring at Rodimus for a little too long. He quickly offered him a glass of cool energon. "S-sorry Rodimus," he stammered, "I thought you may want a drink?"

The young Prime stared at him, and then grinned in a sly way. He started walking towards Drift, until he was leaning right into his face. The white mech flinched, and found he couldn't move. What was this? Why was Rodimus leaning into him like this?

Rodimus said nothing, but giggled again. "You know Drift, but every time you stare at me, I can't help but think, you're thinking naughty thoughts."

Drift went red in the face, and shook violently. He tried stepping back, but Rodimus stalked him, refusing to let him get away. "N-no Rodimus, I would never... ever think of you like that," he cried, trying to keep certain thoughts from forming in his mind.

"Like what?" asked Rodimus, in a teasing way.

"L-like a pervert would," explained Drift, now trying to walk back faster.

Rodimus however kept up with him, still grinning in a mocking way. "How would you know how a pervert thinks?" he asked.

Drift shook his head even more. His face had now completely turned red, and he was unaware what was behind him as he continued to walk backwards, away from Rodimus. "N-n-no... I-I... I'm n-n-not a... I...w-wait... this i-isn't fair-... AH!"

The white mech had walked back a fair distance backwards, miraculously not walking into anything, but he failed to detect a loose rock that was in his path. His heel collided with it, and he feel backwards. Out of instinct, he dropped the chilled energon, and grabbed Rodimus in the hopes he would hold him up. However Rodimus was caught off guard as well and he yelped as Drift dragged him down. The two young mechs fell to the floor in a heap, the pair of them crying out as they fell. Thankfully no one was around to see that.

Drift groaned in annoyance. He wasn't in pain, but by the Blade that was embarrassing. Why did Rodimus like playing these games on him? Did he enjoy it or something, because he certainly didn't enjoy them. They made him feel weird and... Strange.

It was then that Drift realised that Rodimus was now lying on top of him, his body on top of his own. The white mech gasped, his optics widening, and his mouth opening halfway, unsure of what to do. He wanted to push him off, but he couldn't. He wanted to say "get off," but he couldn't. He could feel Rodimus' heaving chassis upon his own. He could feel his pulsing spark from underneath his chassis armour. Now that he could concentrate, he could sense every part of his body where Rodimus' own body was touching his... and it was making him feel strange. 

Before he could even say anything, Rodimus groaned and pushed himself up, his hands either side of Drift's helm. "Drift you goof, what's wrong with you?" he moaned, positioning himself so he was looking down at the white mech.

Once he was up and looking down at Drift, the pair suddenly went silent. This feeling... this strange sensation he was feeling as the young Prime stared at him from his position was taking over again. He was starting to feel hot. Things forming in his mind made no sense. Even the taste in his mouth felt wrong. What was wrong with him? Was the hot sol affecting his mind or something? It didn't take him long to process that Rodimus was currently straddling him, his face above his but close enough for him to feel his warm breath wash against his face. A clicks passed before Drift realised that Rodimus' rear end was sitting right above his pelvic armour, and it was making him heat up even more. Oh frag, what should he do?

He looked back at Rodimus, hoping he could provide some answers, but the young Prime staring down at him in a peculiar way. He didn't utter a single word, or budge an inch; he just stared down at Drift, as if he was in a trance. What was going on? What was this weird feeling building up between them? Why was he feeling hot? Why was Rodimus getting hot? Why was his spark pulsing even harder than before? What should he do? What should do?

"Rodimus Prime?"  
The two mechs reacted upon hearing a, not too far away, loud voice. Broken out of his trance, Rodimus suddenly rolled off Drift, landing next to him. Drift quickly sat up, just in time too, for walking into the training grounds was Ultra Magnus, bearing a foul mood by the looks of things too. The two young mechs quickly stood up, with Rodimus almost stumbling over. The pair of them were masking their panic with calm expressions, though they looked they were about to crumble.

Ultra Magnus stood before the pair, glaring at them with his hands on his hips. Despite their efforts to cover it up, the vice-commander could easily see that something was up. He looked at Rodimus first, the young Prime looking up at him with optics that were trying to appear innocent. He then looked at Drift, the white mech making the mistake of avoiding optic contact with him. Ultra Magnus made an angry sound with his throat. If there was one thing he hated, it was when someone tried to hide something obvious from him.

He folded his arms, and gave the pair his signature glare. "What have you two been doing?" he demanded, looking like he was ready to scream all manner of things at them.

Drift gulped, and looked over at Rodimus, the young Prime looking back at him with a panicked look. Before he could even start to defend himself, Rodimus looked up at Ultra Magnus and said, "D-Drift wasn't feeling well, Ultra Magnus!" The Magnus looked at him, raising an optic brow at him. Rodimus didn't back down though. "H-he's not used to the heat you see, so he needed to lie down and drink some chilled energon. Right Drift?"

Drift looked back at Rodimus, the young Prime pulling a strange face at him. He soon figured out it meant to play along, thus he too looked at Ultra Magnus, and nodded. "Y-yeah, I wasn't feeling well. The heat in your land is hotter compared to mine."

"You see," exclaimed Rodimus, "He wasn't feeling well, so lay off him!" 

The Magnus continued to glare at them, his expression unchanging. Didn't he believe them? Well if they were listening to themselves, not even they would believe it. Instead, they just made it sound even more suspicious. All they could was wait for Ultra Magnus to pass judgment upon them.

The Magnus merely stared at them for a moment. He then sighed, and glared at Drift. "If you not feeling well, then go to the healing chambers and report to Ratchet," he ordered, his blue optics piercing into his very being without care. "I trust you can make it there without collapsing, yes?"

Drift winced; wondering if was too late to own up. It wasn't the fact that he didn't want to meet Ratchet again, but if he went there feeling perfectly fine, then the healer would chew his audios out for wasting his time. Looking back at Rodimus, the young Prime cocked his head away, as if to tell him to just go. He looked back at Ultra Magnus, who stood there, waiting for him to make his move.

Sighing in defeat, Drift lowered his head, and proceeded to make his way to the healing chambers, in a slow manner. He could only pray that Ratchet would be in a good enough mood. Or maybe he could pretend he was going to the healing chambers, but go back to his own room. No, that wouldn't work, for last time he informed Ultra Magnus he was going to the library, but changed his mind at the last click, the Magnus gave him a personal telling off for misinforming him about his location. It was painful to admit, but he no choice. He carefully walked past Ultra Magnus, and just as he was about to enter the doorway, he looked back. Ultra Magnus was still glaring at him, but Rodimus waved to him, mouthing the words, "good luck" to him, without the Magnus noticing. Drift smiled a little, but as he looked at Rodimus, he found himself looking down towards his lower regions. Mentally cursing himself, he dashed indoors, and forced these horrible ideas out of his mind.

What in the pit was he thinking? Why did he feel so weird when Rodimus was on top of him? Why did he get so hot? These thoughts, these feelings, they were sensations that he should not have, especially when it involved a Prime. Yes, Rodimus Prime may be beautiful and cunning, but to Drift that was all he was. He was a Prime, not someone he could drool over and have fantasies with. It was wrong to think of such things, whether it was a Prime or not. Yes, he did not care for Rodimus in that way. He was his friend and nothing more. Just a friend. That was all he is, and forever shall be.

As Drift made his way, slowly, to the healing chambers, Ultra Magnus sighed and looked back down at the young Prime. His cold glare turned into a disapproving frown. "Rodimus Prime, you are a poor liar, and I do not enjoy it when I'm being lied to in a obvious fashion."

The young Prime groaned, knowing he was in for it now. "Oh come on Ultra Magnus," he whined, tired of the Magnus' attitude "Can't you just relax for once, without you getting angry at every small thing we do."

"If it were up to me, I'd have him sent back home in an instant," growled the Magnus, "He's nothing but a trouble maker. Why he even had the gull to launch your brother into a pile of crates!"

That actually made Rodimus laugh. "Yeah," he giggle, "Optimus told me about that. Wish I could have seen it."

"Oh for the love of Primus, the act of throwing someone, who happens to be a Prime, is not funny,' snapped the Magnus, not pleased with how Rodimus was reacting to his explanation.”He may have apologised afterward, but he still reeks of trouble. I was hoping he would have left with Master Axe but no, he didn't. Now, I'm stuck with him."

Rodimus suddenly huffed at him, folding his arms in an angry way. "Why do you hate him so much?"

These words actually made Ultra Magnus look surprised. "Hate him? I don't hate him, I just-"

"Hah, and you say I'm a poor liar," laughed the young Prime, though he bore a dark glare in his optics. "Ever since he arrived, you've been treating him worse than the twins! OK, so he knocked my brother into a pile of crates, but he's from another land, and their customs are different to ours! Even Optimus told me that Drift mistook his handshake for a invite to spar. He apologises whenever he messes up, but for some reason that's never good enough for you. What has he ever done to you?"

Ultra Magnus rolled his optics and sighed heavily. "I would rather not talk about it Rodimus Prime. Now, if you have finished your afternoon training, I have to place the safety latch onto your weapon."

It was Rodimus' turn to sigh, tucking his arms behind his back. "Oh come on, I'm not going to kill anyone with them," he protested.

"That may be true, but until you have been approved by Sir Kup, the latch stays on," retorted the Magnus. "Now come on, arms out."

Rodimus huffed, but knowing that he had no other choice gave in, slowly revealing his arms. The Magnus gave a nod of approval, which was his weird way of appreciation since he was still frowning, and due to his height, the Magnus had to bend down on one knee before the young Prime. He carefully took hold of one the young Prime's arms, and began to attach the safety device. Rodimus sighed as he felt the Magnus gently attach the safety latch. 

Looking away, the young Prime began to ponder on a few things. Before Drift showed up, his days in the palace had been slow and boring. There was no one to play with, no one to share stories with, and everywhere he went he would be treated like a poor lonely child, one that was precious and could never be touched. Servants would talk behind his back, nobles and knights would look at him, pretending they understood. Optimus had done his best to provide him a decent life, but it was never enough. He had gone through many things he wished he could erase from mind. Optimus' unusual mood swings, his blasted future that followed him everywhere to remind he could not escape, and his father... oh how he wished his father would leave him alone. He hated it when his father would decide to... check him. How he dreaded and despised those sols.

Peering at Ultra Magnus, who was adding the final safety latch on, Rodimus had to admit that the rude mech had been somewhat decent with him during his youth. Yes, he would scold him, and punish him whenever he did something wrong, but he had looked out for him, in his strict and cold way. In fact, now that he thought about it, he was guarding him most of the time, acting like a devoted bodyguard, but with a foul attitude. Whenever Optimus would get into one of his moods, Ultra Magnus would carry him away. Whenever Sentinel gave him a hard time, Ultra Magnus would step in and shoo the young Prime away. Whenever he was lonely, Ultra Magnus would give him something to do, and even though they were things he would rather not do, he was happy that at least someone paid attention to him. He had a bizarre way of helping him, but at least he wasn't all that bad.

But now Drift was here, and Rodimus felt different with him around. He felt like he a purpose, a drive, something he could call his own. His pent up enthusiasm finally exploded when Drift came to the palace, his eagerness and desire to spend time with one he could call a friend was just as strong as any blade. He was scared that Drift would leave him at first, but when he announced he would stay; Rodimus smiled a genuine smile for the first time since ever. He wanted to experience of true friendship with Drift, explore every aspect of it, and one sol when all was bleak, all he had to do was look back on those youthful sols and he knew it would bring a smile to his face.

Though lately, whenever he looked at Drift, or came into close contact with him, he felt strange. His spark would pulse fast, and his body would heat up in a funny way. His cheeks would burn, and his mind would become fuzzy. He had never felt like this before. These feelings and sensations were new to him. Was it because Drift was the first friend he ever had?

"All done," said Ultra Magnus suddenly.

Rodimus looked up, the safety latches now firmly attached. He sighed in annoyance as he examined his arms, wishing he didn't have to be treated like an infant. He wished they would trust him, rather than keep these blasted restraints on him. Aw well, at least he was allowed to carry his weapon about, despite being locked up. He was a little surprised how gentle the Magnus handled him. Given his strict nature, he was certain he would have tugged and pinched at him, but the young Prime barely noticed him at all.

"Thanks Ultra Magnus," he sighed, turning around to head indoors, "Now I'll be going to my room for a while."

The Magnus nodded in response. "Make sure you study for your lessons," he asked, ignoring the small angry sound Rodimus made. "And by the way, tomorrow will be the sol you learn about... ahem... how life works."

Rodimus turned round, confused by what the Magnus had said. He was even more surprised to see that the Magnus seemed embarrassed about something. Even his face was turning a faint shade of pink, and he was avoiding making optic contact. What was he learning about tomorrow? Let's see, there was geography, the history of the Old Knights, the third part of his speech lesson, and then... oh... now he remembered. Primus, he had forgotten all about that. He had been reminded by his brother, and even his father, about this certain lesson, and it was rather important. He must have been distracted with his new weapon, that he cleaned forgot it. No wonder the Magnus was embarrassed. It was actually quite funny to see him like that.

"Thanks for reminding me," he replied using a normal tone, turning round once more. "Don't worry; I'll be prepared since I'm old enough now. It might even be fun. Heck, I might even bring Drift along. Maybe he already knows some of that stuff, and if not, we can learn about it together." 

Ultra Magnus now looked alarmed upon hearing these words. "You can't take someone like him into such a private lesson, he-"

"HE is my friend," snapped Rodimus, not facing the Magnus, but still put on an angry face. "And what he and I do together is none of your business."

With that said and done, the young Prime left the training grounds quickly, just in case the Magnus would tell him off for being raising his voice at him. It annoyed him when he tried to do this, spoiling his fun in pitiful ways. Sure he watched him as he grew up, but that didn't give him the right to dictate his life now. Ultra Magnus may have authority over him on a great number of things, but when it came to his friendship with Drift, he had absolutely no say in the matter.

As the young Prime vanished back into the palace, the Magnus stood there in complete silence, biting his lip hard until mech blood seeped down his chin.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale_ **

**_Chapter Seven  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - T  
Warnings so far - Implied office sex, talk of adulthood, suggestive talking_ **

\--------

_Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years_

\--------

Standing before the door of the healing chambers, Drift wondered if he should just go back to his room rather than disturbing the head healer, Ratchet. If he did, he wouldn't get a telling off by Ratchet for wasting his time, but if he didn't Ultra Magnus would tell him off for lying and possibly punish him. The last thing he wanted was to polish all the blades in the Autobot Knight barracks again. By the Blade, how did he get into this situation? If only that damn Magnus didn't stalk him whenever he was with Rodimus, he wouldn't have to choose between getting shouted at by a gruff healer or a rude vice-commander. 

Then again, he could ask Ratchet about that funny sensation he had when Rodimus ended up falling on him. It still confused him, and even worried him. In the past he had been tackled and straddled by sparring partners before, and he never experienced that strange sensation until now. Was it because it wasn't a fight? Or maybe it was the heat? Or maybe it was because he had a Prime sitting on him? Heck, it could have even been that chilled energon that made him feel funny. Whatever the reason, he had to know why he experienced such things. Although he was a little nervous to speak with Ratchet on his own turf, he had to go in, so he could understand what happened to him, and so Ultra Magnus wouldn't get angry at him.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked upon the door. At first no one answered, and he was about to knock again when at last, a voice from within answered. "Hello? You can come in, it's open."

Huh, that wasn't the rough voice of Ratchet. It was younger, and much softer. It didn't make him feel like he was about to get hit on the head, or fear for his life. Opening the door, he peeped in and spotted a mech, donning similar apparel that Ratchet wore, moving some items around and muttering to himself. He was much younger than Ratchet, and a bit shorter. He donned a bright blue visor that shielded his optics, and a strange looking mask that covered his lower face.

He placed a couple of beakers down, before looking up at the white mech. "Hello there, have you come for a check up?" He appeared to be smiling from under his mask, as he walked over to greet Drift. "I have to warn you that we're out of the painkillers until this evening, but I can-" He paused for a moment after he got a better look at the white mech. "Oh! You're that young fella from Crystal City. The one who's keeping our young Prime entertained."

Drift stared at him for a moment, stunned a little that there was a nice healer before him. He did seem nice and friendly enough to trust, and he could detect a very cheerful and upbeat attitude from his aura. He didn't realise there were other healers in the palace. On second thought in a palace this size, he should he surprised if there was only one healer in the palace. Still, he wasn't expecting one to be so nice. Ever since seeing Ratchet, he assumed they were all alike.

"So did our young Prime hurt you already?" queried the young healer, still acting sweet towards him. "Not that he has hurt anyone before, but you never know these sols, right?"

The white mech responded with a shake of the head. "No, he hasn't hurt me," he explained, still trying to figure out how to put this all into the form of a question. "You see, we were both in the training grounds and... err... he and I... well... it was hot and-"

Before he could try and explain any further, the nice healer pulled him into the healing chambers, closed the door behind them and led him through a large room. "It's OK, you can explain it all to Ratchet," he suggested. "Last I checked, it was him you were assigned to, and thankfully he has some free time and honestly he needs to do something to take his mind off whatever is bothering him." He continued to yammer on, ignoring the panicked look on Drift's face.

He dragged him to, what looked like the elevators he saw back at the port, only smaller and with dozens of switches to push. Once inside and a bar rose up to block the exit, the friendly healer gently glided his finger along the row of switches until it landed on one that, Drift was just guessing since he couldn't fully understand Iaconian written language, research and medicine. Once pushed, the elevator hummed and Drift flinched when it started to move upwards. As it rose, Drift found that they were passing other floors. Some they passed were either riddled with doors, or with other mechs. He even saw a few more healers, but they were moving at a speed where he didn't have long to study their faces, or even what kind of floor they were on. The friendly healer was humming a tune, his fingers tapping along a bar until their ride came to a stop. Drift braced as the elevator halted and looked round to see they were in a very large room, filled with messy workbenches, shelves filled with books, cabinets filled with chemicals or bizarre objects, and charts covered in puzzling formulas. There were a few healers around, chatting or arguing with others about their work. Some were mixing chemicals with other chemicals, others were using strange tools to analyse their work, whilst others were either writing things in blank data pads.

He couldn't look round and admire for long, for the friendly healer grabbed him again and dragged him through the large chamber without another word. As they past the other healers, the friendly one that held him either greeted a few with a quick hello, or ignored the other ones who shouted at him. Some of the healers gave Drift odd looks, and others made strange wooing sounds at him. One even cried out, "Hey Aid is he Ratchet's dessert?" The friendly healer retorted with, "No, he's a patient assigned to the head healer, and a guest at the palace." That was answer was responded with, "That's never stopped him before!" followed with laughter.

Drift was confused by all the banter. What did they mean by "Ratchet's dessert", and that he was it? Oh Primus, did he eat other mechs? No that was stupid. It must have been an Iaconian term or something, but what did it mean? Or maybe he wasn't listening probably, and mistook it for some other word? The wooing sounds unsettled him. Were they angry at him? Upset with his presence? None of what they said made any sense to him. Was this the way all healers spoke?

Once they crossed the large room, they came to a semi circular row of elevators. Some were present, some were just arriving with healers walking out or into them, and some had signs with a big crimson cross blocking the entrance. They climbed into one in the middle, and once again the bar rose to block their exit. This time the switches had a list of names under them, but the friendly healer pushed the one that said, Head Healer Ratchet's office. The elevator moved upwards again, at a faster speed this time.

As they rose, the friendly healer finally spoke to him. "Sorry about the detour," he explained as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. "Usually I would have taken you to the private treatment room, where Ratchet is normally located, but today he's in his personal office way up here." He finished with a small shrug, and proceeded to hum a happy tune.  
Drift didn't even know where to begin asking questions. He knew the healing chambers were big, given that it was one gigantic tower within the palace, but he didn't realise that it held so many healers. Why did they have so many healers? Was this their headquarters, and of it was, why was it in the palace of the Primes? Wouldn't it be much better to have it within the city? All these questions and he wasn't sure what to ask first.

Before he could even open his mouth, the elevator came to a halt. "We're here," chirped the friendly healer, opening the bar and escorting the white mech out. 

Looking around, Drift was surprised to see how lavish it was compared to what he had seen so far. It was like some sort of reading room, like the one he studied in, only more elegant. There were some large seats made entirely of soft mesh, decorated with plump cushions form from air. A small table lay before it, with a jug of chilled energon and some neatly stacked glasses. Large floating crystals that illuminated the room with a gentle light. Plants that were foreign to Drift were dotted here and there, and were beautiful to look at. There was even a shelf filled with data pads, all of them looked appealing to read, though Drift still wasn't familiar with the written langue of the land. There was also a door on the other side of the room, etched with beautiful patterns and shapes. There was a sign that caught his attention labelled, "Do not enter or else!" and above that was another sign that was even more terrifying, "Ratchet's Office."

The friendly healer ushered Drift to follow him, failing to notice how timid the white mech was. Drift followed regardless, noting that the walk from the elevator to the door was taking a bit longer than he anticipated. As he got closer to the door, he noticed there was a desk covered with open data pads, but no one sitting before it. Was this Ratchet's desk? But if it was, why was it out here and not in his office? Primus, he was coming up with so many questions that it was starting to hurt his head.

Standing before the door, the friendly healer knocked a few times, not showing any fear as he did. "Ratchet, it's First Aid," he called out, alerting Drift to his name at last. "I have someone out here to see you." He proceeded to open the door, not even bothering to wait for a reply. "I checked the list, and he is assigned to you so-" The door was halfway open, but before Drift could even peep in, the friendly healer slammed it shut again without warning. Looking up, Drift found that First Aid seemed to be embarrassed, yet very angry at the same time. What was that all about? Dammit, more questions and not an answer in sight. Before he could ask, the friendly healer knocked at the door again, only harder and in a furious way. "Ratchet! Tell your partner to get out and do some actual work!"

For a moment nothing happened, but after a few clicks the door opened. Drift was expecting it to be Ratchet, but instead someone else walked out. A young and fair looking mech, and possibly a healer given the way he was dressed. He appeared exhausted, flustered, and a little annoyed as he walked past them. There was also a bizarre smell about him, a scent that Drift had never smelt before yet it reminded him of something. First Aid merely huffed at the young mech who appeared as he strode into the office, dragging Drift in with him, the white mech not having a chance to protest.

Once inside, Drift found that the smell was stronger in here, but he still could not determine what it was. It was neither good nor bad, it was just odd. Looking up, he marvelled at what stood before him, forgetting what was flowing through his olfaction sensors. Large and decorated shelves filled with many data pads, complete with spiral steps that lead to the data pads higher up. Glowing crystals that were suspended in mid air floated about, giving certain areas of the room light. The windows were decorated with beautiful patterns, similar to those paintings he saw in the grand gallery. There were even some of these paintings decorating the room, though Drift did not recognise anyone within them. The floor was even something to marvel at, for the mesh carpeting was filled with patterns with such detail that it must have taken eons just to craft one meter of it. Whoever crafted it must have been a true artist. 

As he continued to admire the chamber, there was a loud cough. Drift looked up, noticing a large desk that was quite messy compared to the one outside. It was sitting before a large window, decorated with a symbol that was similar to the ones adorning the uniform the healers wore. The cough came again, and Drift only had to look downwards a little. Sitting at the desk was the head healer, Ratchet, who looked angry and a little flustered. He was glaring at the friendly healer, who was rushing about and opening some windows.

They seemed to be arguing about something, ignoring the fact that Drift was there. "Primus Ratchet, can't you go through one sol without playing with your damn secretary," muttered First Aid, slamming windows open left and right. "Just because you're the head healer, doesn't mean you can take advantage of employees!" Once the last window was open, he started spraying a strange chemical in the air.

Ratchet huffed at him, sipping some strong scented energon. "Pah, he was fine with it until you barged in," he snapped, slamming his glass down. "I thought I told you to take care of my duties till I was done."

"Yes you did," responded First Aid with a growl, "but not when you're off fooling around with pretty mech out there." He walked over to the desk and slammed a hand down. "So I brought him up to see you."

Drift winced when the healers looked straight at him. He was hoping he could sneak out but it was too late now. If there was one thing he did not enjoy, it was being caught in the middle of an argument with mechs he barely knew. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what to say. Should he greet him? Should he apologise for his presence? Oh Primus, why did he have to tell Ultra Magnus he needed a healer?

Ratchet looked at Drift, raising an optic brow at him. He didn't seem annoyed at his presence. He actually seemed curious. He looked over First Aid and asked, "What's wrong with him?" He took another sip from his glass. "In the whole time he's been here, he's never needed a healer."

"Oh please Ratchet, he's here because-... because..." First Aid trailed off, unsure of what to say. He then looked over at Drift and laughed in an uneasy tone. "Say there, what was wrong with you again?"

The silence meant that Drift was allowed to speak at last, though he wasn't even sure what to say. Heck, he didn't even what was wrong with him in the first place. The two healers stared at him, waiting for the white mech to say something. Drift bit his lips, feeling coolant trickle down his face. Everything had been happening so fast that he couldn't handle it. He didn't know what to ask. He didn't know how to answer their question. By the blade, he just wanted to leave this place and go back to the garden.

He was so deep and lost in thought; he failed to notice that Ratchet was now standing before him. He flinched when he felt the cool red hand press against his forehead, surprised how gentle it was. The head healer made a curious sound as his hand carefully caressed Drift's forehead. "He's a little warm," murmured Ratchet, removing his hand and standing back up. "It's just the heat; he's not used to it. First Aid, go fetch some Profen and a glass of regular energon, none of the chilled crap. Damn chefs put weird spices in it."

The friendly healer nodded, and turned to leave. Drift wanted him to stay, but couldn't find the right words. He was feeling a little hot, and hopefully this stuff First Aid was fetching would make him feel better. Once he was gone, closing the door behind him, Ratchet huffed in annoyance. He muttered a few things as he collapsed into his chair, and downed another glassed of his strong energon. Drift stood rooted to the spot, not sure what to do. 

Ratchet looked over at him and sighed. "Relax, I don't bite," he sighed. He pointed to an empty chair. "Come on and sit down already. You look stupid standing there."

Drift looked at the empty chair, and then back at Ratchet. He had sat with him before, back in the garden, so he shouldn't fear him but he still gave him this sense of dread. Under that rough expression he did seem like a decent person, but the white mech could feel this swirling vortex of bitter and foul emotions. Maybe that was why he was a little uneasy being around him. He was full of these horrid emotions that it practically radiated off him, affecting everything around him. He could smile and say pleasant things, but even then others would fear him. He wondered why he was like that, but it was not his place to ask. That and he was afraid to find out.

Giving in, he cautiously walked over and sat down before the head healer. Ratchet watched him, not uttering a word but did down another freshly poured glass of the strong scented energon. He poured another one, sighing as he did. Drift felt a little uncomfortable, not sure if he should at least say something. He hated this silence.

"By the way, thanks for watching my stuff," announced Ratchet suddenly. 

Drift blinked, and realised he must have been talking about the items he had with him back in the garden. "Oh, no problem," he responded, smiling a little.

Ratchet suddenly glared at him and sighed angrily. "I was being sarcastic, you glitch," he muttered, downing his second glass. "You ran off before I even got back."

The white mech winced again, looking away. He had totally forgotten about that. After Rodimus had run into the garden in a worrying state, he decided to leave with him. Ratchet sighed and waved a hand at him. "Forget it, none of it was missing," he muttered, sipping his strong scented energon. "I just had to deal with Ultra Magnus after all that crap." He made a little yawn as he began to organise his messy desk. "So, I guess you're not used to the heat here?"

The white mech nodded in response. "It's a whole lot warmer than I expected," he replied, his fingers stroking his own cape in a rough way. "But it's what happened with Rodimus that made me feel funny to begin with."

Ratchet looked over at him, a puzzling expression filling his face. "What did he do? Knock you on the head or something?"

"Oh no," answered Drift, shaking his head as he spoke. "I-It's just that... well... we were training and... I started to feel weird."

"Weird how?" asked the healer, leaning a little closer to Drift.

Drift blushed as he recalled what transpired not too long ago in the training grounds. "Well... he started calling me a pervert, b-because I was staring at him. I told him I wasn't but he insisted I was and then I... I fell over and he f-fell on top of... me... and that's when I started feeling weird. I-I don't know why but... I felt hot and floaty as he sat on me and... I don't know why. I've never felt like that before. Am I ill? Is it the heat?"

He was half expecting Ratchet to shout at him for allowing Rodimus to fall on top of him, but to his surprise the healer started to laugh. Not a small chortle, but a loud and almost audio shattering howls of laughter. He had thrown his head back, and slammed his hand onto the table, laughing like mad. Drift could only stare at him. What was so funny?

Ratchet wiped a tear away before answering. "How old are you kid?" 

That question made Drift blink twice. "W-what? I'm nearly six vorns old but-..."

The healer raised a hand to stop him from speaking any further. "Relax kid, you're not ill. You're just growing up."

"Growing up?" queried Drift, confused by the statement. "Of course I'm growing up, but what does that have to do with anything."

Ratchet laughed again, smiling in a weird fashion. "Damn, you're just a clueless," he chuckled, patting the white mech on the helm. "Obviously you don't know what I mean. I might just be able to remedy that."

Before Drift could ask what he meant by that, the door opened and First Aid returned, carrying a glass of regular blue energon and a small box. The friendly healer looked at the pair of them, and made an angry sound at the head healer. He didn't seem pleased with how close Ratchet was to the white mech. "Ratchet... You better not be-..."

"Oh for the love of Primus First Aid, no I wasn't!" snapped Ratchet, standing up and walking over to him in a huff, "He's not my type anyway."

These words were confusing Drift once more. The way Iaconians talked was bizarre and it was only making his headache worse. Why didn't they talk normally? Ratchet glanced at the white mech for a moment, before pulling First Aid into a corner, and spoke with him in low tones. It was clear to Drift that it was a conversation that they didn't want him to hear. Sighing, he rested his helm against Ratchet's desk, his optics wandering along the messed up paper work, and strong scented energon spills.

It was then his optics landed on a small picture, propped up on the desk for display. He sat up to get a better look at it, wondering what it contained. The picture displayed three young mechs, all of which looked familiar. Looking a little closer, he suddenly recognised who they were. The one on the left was a very young looking Ratchet. He didn't look as intimidating as he did now, though he was still very handsome. In the centre it was a younger version of Optimus Prime. He was smiling along with Ratchet, and Drift had to admit he reminded him of Rodimus a little. Their faces were a similar shape and their optics were the same shade of blue, turquoise with a hint of teal in the centre. He wondered if Rodimus ever noticed that. The one on the right almost made Drift's jaw drop. It was a younger version of Ultra Magnus. He wasn't smiling but he didn't appear to be that threatening in his youth. From the looks of it, this picture was taken quite a while ago and he guessed that Ratchet was a childhood friend of Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus. 

There was some imprinted text along the frame. Drift could not understand it but he did notice that it had been scratched at, as if someone had tried to erase it with their hands. He wondered what it said. He wondered why it was scratched at. Maybe it was an accident, or maybe it was intentional. He didn't know, but it was nice to see such a happy scene. The three mechs within the picture looked happy to be with each other, even Ultra Magnus despite his frown. It was strange that he never seen them together, other than Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus. He guessed it was work related, but still the picture made him feel happy in strange way.

"Hey kid," came a voice. The white mech looked up to see that Ratchet and First Aid were looking at him again. "First Aid is going to give Rodimus Prime a special lesson tomorrow. I think you will better understand what happened to you if you participate with him."

Drift was curious. "What lesson?" he asked, sitting up a little.

First Aid stepped forward, smiling from under his mask. "Well, Rodimus Prime is soon to be six vorns, and it's a tradition here that a couple of stellar cycles before you reach that age, young mechs have to learn a certain something about growing up." He walked over to the white mech, to hand over the blue energon and a strange looking pill, from out of the box, placing them into his hands. "I'm not sure how things are done in Crystal City, but I'm sure this will give you a better understanding. Plus you're nearly six vorns yourself, and I'm not surprised you experiencing the first signs of-"

"First Aid!" snapped Ratchet, interrupting him suddenly. "Wait till tomorrow, alright?"

The friendly healer sighed, seemly wanting to tell Drift whatever it was he was going to tell him, but obeyed the head healer. He did however inform Drift how to take the medicine, the white mech doing as he instructed. He did gag on the bitter taste the medicine had, but the blue energon helped rid his oral cavity of it. 

"So what is this lesson about?" he asked, curious as to why it was special.

First Aid shook his. "Sorry but you'll have to wait tomorrow," he explained. "Now take the medicine and I'll escort you out of here."

Drift sighed, but knew he could wait till tomorrow. After downing the medicine with the blue energon, a light on a nearby control panel suddenly started to blink with a loud light and a loud noise. It startled both Drift and First Aid, but it had another affect on the head healer. Ratchet growled with anger as he rushed over to deal with it, slamming a hand down on the blinking light to stop the sound. "Primus, what does he want now?" he snarled, grabbing a nearby bag. 

He started walking towards a door hidden between the shelves, muttering foul things. He paused for a moment and looked over at Drift. "Hey kid, come with me and I'll get you back to the lower floors. First Aid, take over till I get back." First Aid nodded, but Drift was a little lost. Ratchet growled again, "NOW kid, I don't have all sol!"

That made Drift jump up, and he rushed over to join the head healer. He followed Ratchet through the doorway, and they found themselves in a small chamber with an elevator. Ratchet rushed into it, shoving Drift in without a care and slammed a hand onto a lone button. Drift yelped when the elevator started moving downwards at such a speed, he thought they were dropping uncontrollably. 

Ratchet could not help but smirk at the panicked look on the white mech's face. "Relax kid; this is my emergency and personal lift. It does stop at a safe speed," explained the healer, relaxing himself despite the speed. "I use it whenever there is an emergency and I need a quick exit."

Drift tried to relax, but they already reached the bottom before they could. Ratchet calming raised the bar, kicking the white mech out so he could close it behind him. Drift followed him through a narrow passageway before they came to a large door. Ratchet cautiously opened it, peering out as if he was checking if the coast was clear. He then grabbed Drift by the arm and threw him out. Drift stumbled into a large hallway, filled with mesh curtains decorating the walls. He looked back to see Ratchet step out of the door, closing it behind him, and pulling at a cord. A large curtain suddenly drooped down, hiding the door from plain sight.

Ratchet looked over at Drift with a frown on his face. "Do me a favour, and do not tell Rodimus about this door," he ordered, a serious glint in his optics. "If he finds out about it, he will go up there, and the last thing I want is my office ruined by a little Prime who acts before thinking." And with that said and done, he turned his back on Drift and walked away.

Drift watched as he left, and decided to retire to his own room. He was tired, but that medicine did seem to help clear up his headache. He did glance at the hidden door before leaving, surprised that such a thing was hidden from view. He had walked down this hallway many times, but never would have imagined that such a door was hidden. It made him wonder if there were other doors hidden all around him.


	8. Chapter 8

Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale

Chapter Eight  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - A lesson on reproduction

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

Drift was a little eager to see what kind of lesson he would be sharing with Rodimus, the so called special lesson that Ratchet had told him about. The healers had explained to him that it was essential for a mech nearing six vorns to have this lesson, and it shouldn't be a problem for him to join in. Drift still had no idea what it was about. Even Rodimus was unsure what it was about, but he did know it had something to do with becoming an adult. This did confuse the white mech, as he explained to the young Prime, that in Crystal City one had to earn their adulthood, not listen to some lecture about it. Rodimus was intrigued to learn more but they had hurry to their special lesson.

As they approached the classroom door, Ultra Magnus stood before it waiting for them. He glared at the pair of them but Drift was certain he was glaring at him in a darker way. Rodimus merely ignored him as he walked in but before Drift could enter Ultra Magnus suddenly raised his arm, blocking his path into the classroom.

Before he could even demand an answer for this rude behaviour, Ultra Magnus leaned down until they were optic level and growled viciously. "Don't you dare get any funny ideas after this brat," he hissed, his rage ringing in every word he uttered.

Drift didn't make any optic contact with him, but glared into empty space. Once the Magnus left his side, the white mech then looked over at him with a vicious glare of his own. What was his deal? Why did he hate him so much? OK, he did throw Optimus Prime into a pile of junk by accident and call him a few names, but he didn't have to continue being rude towards him. He still couldn't believe that he was friends with Optimus Prime and Ratchet. How someone that horrid was able to form a friendship with two other mechs was unbelievable.

Ignoring it for now, he walked into the classroom. He guessed that this was where Rodimus had all his lessons. It was a nice room, decorated in a way that would keep you alert. It had shelves here and there, filled with data pads. Charts and diagrams were placed on the walls, filled with knowledge about the world and the known universe. Models of ships floated in the air, whilst some were placed on mantles for display. There was also a beautiful mural of the Old Knights and of the Thirteen, displayed all over the ceiling. What an enchanting place to learn all of life's lessons. Surrounded by knowledge, art and wonder, it was the perfect place to study and further ones education.

His attention then focused on Rodimus, waving to him from a decorated desk. There was another desk next to it, and Drift guessed it was for him. Thankfully he knew how to sit on it, for he had much practise during his stay here. As he approached, someone else entered the classroom. Drift recognised the new mech as First Aid, the friendly healer from the other sol. He remembered that he mentioned that he was the one giving the lesson, and he was thankful that it was him and not Ratchet.

"Good morning to you, young Rodimus Prime," greeted First Aid, bowing before Rodimus before turning to Drift. "And good morning to you, young Drift." Wanting to be polite, Drift bowed back. 

At least First Aid wasn't scary as Ratchet or as rude as Ultra Magnus, or anything in between. No, this mech was one of the most friendliest mechs he had ever met since coming to Iaconina, besides Optimus Prime of course. He gave one the impression that he was naive, but he was actually quite smart, and tough despite his small size. Heck, he even shouted at Ratchet without fear. He was also quite young. From the looks of it, First Aid must have been at least past 9 vorns or even under 8 vorns. Either way, he was young for a healer. In Crystal City, healers had to be at least over 12 vorns, since training took a long period of time. Drift guessed that it was different in this land, like so many other things.

First Aid hummed as he began to set up a screen. Rodimus yawned as he rested his arms upon the desk and then rested his head upon his arms. The healer noticed this and made a loud noticeable cough. "Rodimus Prime, you need to stay awake for this."

Rodimus sat up and sighed. "I am, I'm just waiting for you to start," was his argument. The friendly healer chuckled at the young Prime instead of shouting at him, and continued to set up the special lesson. Rodimus huffed loudly, and looked over at Drift. "So are you excited?" he asked.

Drift was unsure how to answer that. "A little, I guess," he answered, shuffling upon his seat. "I'm still not sure what it is about."

The young Prime pouted. "You should be excited," he declared with a grin. "Optimus told me that this one of the most important lessons in my life." He then looked down, a strange expression on his face. "Though he seemed worried too."

"Worried about what?" asked Drift, now a little concerned. "The only reason I'm here is because Ratchet said it would me understand what happened when-..." He quickly bit his glossa, not wanting Rodimus to know what happened when the young Prime fell on top of him.

Rodimus was about to ask what he was about to say, but First Aid had finally finished preparing for the lesson. "OK you two, as you know I am the deputy head healer of the palace of the Primes, and I have been assigned to teach you one of the many wonders of becoming an adult." A blue screen suddenly illuminated behind him, displaying the title "The beginning of life and beyond" with a small caption stating that it was written by the very mech standing before them.

The two young mechs appeared confused upon reading the title. Rodimus raised his arm and asked, "I thought this was about adulthood? What is this about life and beyond?"

First Aid smiled from beneath his mask, obviously aware that he would receive such queries from the young Prime. "This is a very important lesson for the pair of you," he explained, using a stern but relaxed voice. "If you wish to be a true adult, you have to understand how life begins, and what changes you go through, now that you are both nearly six vorns old."

Young Rodimus pouted from where he sat, not at all pleased with this. "I thought we were going to do things only adults do," he grumbled. "Like riding the airships, go on hunts, or go to those parties that only adults can go to. I thought this was the briefing part."

Drift had also believed that was what was going to happen in this lesson, only he thought that once he reached adulthood he would be allowed to wield a great spark blade or go out in a scouting party, which he wasn't allowed to do till he was an adult. The way Rodimus had said it, it sounded like he was expecting this to be some sort of great sol out, to do adult things. He guessed that the pair of them got it all wrong.

"I'm sorry young Rodimus Prime," explained First Aid, "But this whole lesson is nothing more than to help you understand the changes that you and your body go through now that you are nearing your sixth vorn, and where we all start in life."

Rodimus responded with a loud groan, and slumped forward on his desk. It seemed his hopes had suddenly been snatched away. Drift could not help but snicker at the disappointed Prime, and he was lucky that Rodimus was too upset to not notice this. The last time he laughed at one of the young Prime's misfortunes, he was given the silent treatment for quite some time, and getting the silent treatment from Rodimus was actually a little creepy.

First Aid walked over and patted the young Prime on the helm. "Well you should be pleased to hear that this lesson isn't even that long, so you'll have plenty of time to go play afterwards." Unfortunately that didn't seem to lighten the young Prime's mood, and he mumbled a series of light curses into his arms. First Aid chose to ignore this, walking back to his table and picking up two small booklets. "I had these written up for you so you can study in your own time, and learn about adulthood yourselves. Rodimus Prime, I should point out that Ultra Magnus demands an essay once you're done reading this-" this was answered with an even louder groan of dismay "-and Drift, I had yours translated, and I highlighted a section you might wish to read."

Drift glanced at the booklet, entitled "The a Wonders of Life and Beyond" with a cute little picture of a sparkling beneath the title. What could this little book of information teach him about his embarrassing problem? Whilst First Aid prepared the lecture, Drift quickly glanced at the first page, slamming it shut when he saw the title of the chapter, "Reproduction in Detail". He may be young and naive about the world outside his homeland, but he knew when he was about to learn something that would either destroy his mind or cause him to act differently in the future. 

He knew the basics of how their kind reproduced, but he never would have believed he was about to have a whole lecture dedicated to it. Back home, the elders would simply have "the talk" with their young ones. It was Master Axe who taught Drift how he came to be, and Master Axe, along with Wing, were like family. Drift could only assume that here, in Iaconia, the elders had their young ones learn it from someone else, which he found bizarre. Nevertheless, he decided to sit through this and learn about this sensitive subject from a complete stranger. Who knows, he might learn something new.

"Ready to learn?" Asked First Aid, looking at the two young mechs. Drift responded with a nod, whilst Rodimus made an uninterested grunt. First took that grunt as a "yes" and began the lesson.

As the time passed, and even though it was a rather sensitive subject, Drift was fascinated with what he was learning. He already knew about the basics of it all. Cybertronians had two types, that were considered to be the closest thing their kind had to a gender. Other creatures, like Turbo Foxes and Sharkticons had a male and female gender, and it was easy to tell the two apart, if you looked closely. Male Turbo Foxes had an interface spike and were always the sires and females only had the interface port thus making them carriers. Cybertronians had Alphas and Omegas. The Alpha was like a male Turbo Fox and a Omega was like the female. Of course, unlike the Turbo Fox, it was slightly harder to tell the two apart.

Both Alphas and Omegas had both spike and port. Why this was, no one knew, but many believed it was because they were all made in Primus' image. Thankfully as they grew older they could identify one another, but at birth it was a little harder. At birth, the sparkling was inspected by the midwife, who was trained to tell the two types apart. Apparently Alphas had a uniquely designed interface spike compared to the Omegas, and Omegas interface port was right between the legs with a special rim decorating it. The two young mechs blushed as the were presented with awkward pictures and embarrassing diagrams. 

First Aid also explained the whole bonding experience that Iaconians practised. The people of Crystal City practised bonding too, so Drift knew that it was a special ceremony when two mechs would declare their love to each other and become one another's Conjunx Endura, meaning they would be together always. Iaconians had a very strict view on bonding. Sometimes it was for love, other times it was to provide sparklings, and mostly it was to unite two households, to improve their status. To them, bonding was simply a contract and nothing more. It was rare these sols to see two mechs bond for the purpose of love. It may be common in the common areas of their land, but in the noble parts it was too rare to see love in a bonding ceremony. 

A while back, it was the law that an Alpha could only bond with an Omega. They allowed Alphas to interface with Alphas, and likewise with the Omegas, but bonding was out of the question. This made many of Iaconia's citizens upset, resulting in a two hundred cycle protest against this law. It paid off when the ruling Prime, Septimus Prime, decreed that anyone could mate with whom they wanted to. Nothing like this ever happened in Drift's homeland. His people had always practised in bonding with whom they loved, thus nothing like that ever came up in his land.

There was one thing, a major condition that was vital to the bonding. The Omega had to have their virginal seals intact. Omega's could interface, using their spikes, with whomever they wanted before bonding, but their interface ports had to remain untouched. It was an very old tradition, and it was practised in every land on Cybertronia. If the Omega was found with broken seals before bonding, they were considered worthless for mating and forbidden to bond with anyone for the rest of their lives. Thus inspections were always carried out before the ceremony, to make certain the Omega was always pure.

It was at this point that a First Aid paused, and looked over at Rodimus. Drift also glanced at the young Prime, and was concerned when he noticed how uncomfortable he looked. Rodimus was sitting very still, his hands clenched into fists, and he looked like he was about to vomit. Maybe learning all about this was too much for him? Drift did admit that some of these topics made him feel unwell too, but Rodimus looked like he was about to faint.

First Aid stood before him, and asked in a gentle tone, "would you like to continue, Rodimus?"

A click passed before Rodimus nodded slowly. As First Aid returned to restart his lecture, the young Prime looked up, his optics coming into contact with Drift's own. Before Drift could even smile, Rodimus looked away, his face turning red. The white swordsmech could only assume that Rodimus was just uncomfortable with what he was learning, and would return to his normal self later on.

"Ready to continue?" Asked First Aid, holding one of his datapads. The two mechs nodded. Thus they continued to learn.

The next part of the lesson covered in how a sparkling was created, what organs that were used in the process, stages of the growth, and how the birthing was carried out. They also learned how their body's changed as they grew, things that would be noticed and things that were over looked. They were taught how each organ contributed to the creation of a sparkling, what a carrier had to do during the pregnancy, and the responsibilities of the sire. The was also a small part about arousal, and First Aid pointed out to Drift that he highlighted a page in his booklet he might want to read.

Drift took everything in, surprised how very informative the lesson was. He wondered if "the talk" back home was anything like this, but he seriously doubted it. 

It was then that First Aid revealed that he was going to teach them something that only Primes, and a privileged few, could know. He announced he wS going to teach them the unique biology the Primes themselves had. Drift had assumed that they were similar to everyone else, but then again the Primes were pure blooded descendants of Primus, so it wouldn't surprise him that there would be something unique about them.

As it turned out, Primes were both Alpha and Omega, meaning they could be a sire or a carrier. First Aid explained that many aeons ago, the Old Knights of Cybertronia lived upon this world in great numbers. They were the ancestors of the Primes, and unlike the rest of the Cybertronians, they were mono gendered. Today, however, there were only four.

"So how are we still able to reproduce, if there are only four of us, and we're all family?" Asked a confused Rodimus.

"Excellent question, Rodimus," replied First Aid. "You see, for reasons unknown, the number of Primes has been reduced to your entire family; your father and your brothers. For ages, the ruling Primes have carried out a tradition, that has lasted since the sols of the Old Knights."

First Aid went on to explain what the tradition was. When a Prime became the Ruling Prime of all Cybertronia, he would select a special Omega to be the Carrier of his sparkling. The Omega was always a well breed, perfect pedigree, well trained mech, whom came from the House of Solus. The House of Solus have always prepared the perfect Omega mechs for the Primes. They were either bred from famous knights and notable Lords, or bought from Noble families. Nobles always gave them their Omega sparklings, especially when it was near the time for a new ruling Prime, in the hopes they would be chosen.

When the ruling Prime took over from his father, he would visit the House of Solus to select the one who would birth his heir. After his heir is born, he would select another one to birth his second sparkling. In fact, many Prime siblings never shared the same carrier, it was always someone different. This meant the Sentinel, Optimus, and Rodimus all had different Carriers.

"So Primes can mate with anyone?" Queried Rodimus, making certain he understood.

First Aid sighed and folded his arms. "Yes, and no," he answered, "you see a Prime can mate with an Omega and that Omega would bear his sparkling, but if an Alpha tries to spark with a Prime, the Prime will never bear a sparkling."

Rodimus looked even more confused. "So Primes can never be carriers?"

"Well you can," explained First Aid, "but only with another Prime, and since the only Primes are your father and brothers, that's never going to happen."

Rodimus made an "oh" sound, now understanding what he had been told. First Aid sighed again and put his data pad back down on his desk. "Now is there anything else you'd like to know? Anything you don't understand?"

Drift shook his head, fairly content with what he learnt, and planning to read the highlighted page in his booklet later on. Rodimus, however, had another query. "First Aid, who was my carrier?"

First Aid looked like he'd been hit with a rock. Drift looked at Rodimus with shock. He didn't even know who gave birth to him? Surely he must have some knowledge of his own carrier? Surely someone must have told him? Why had no one told him?

The young healer made a small sound of panic, before answering. "I'm sorry Rodimus, but I wasn't working here when you were born."

Rodimus frowned, knowing full well that he wasn't going to get an answer for that question. "W-well... Do you know why I'm the only third child the Primes ever had?"

Yet again, First Aid looked a little panicked, but quickly answered, "to be honest Rodimus, I'm not sure why. Maybe your father wanted another child?"

Once more Rodimus looked annoyed that he wasn't going to get the answer he wanted. Drift however could sense the concern and fear from First Aid, after hearing those questions. Did he truly not know the answers, or was he afraid to answer them? Drift had wondered himself why Rodimus was the only third child in the Prime lineage. Captain Prowl had told him the Ruling Prime always had two sons, one to be his heir and the other to bond with a noble. It seemed that this fact had also brought the young Prime some concern. What was the reason behind his birth?

"Any other questions?" Asked First Aid, trying not to show his concern. Rodimus shook his head. "Well alright then," sighed the young healer, "that is the end of the lesson, but if there is ever something you need help with, don't hesitate to ask me or any other healer." 

Rodimus made a loud sigh, before pushing himself up from his desk. Drift stood up as well, bowing to First Aid before following Rodimus out of the room. He looked at the booklet in his hands, making certain he would read that highlighted page later. Looking up at Rodimus, he could sense the anger bubbling within him. He must not have been happy with the answers First Aid gave him.

Outside in the hallway, Drift felt the need to ask Rodimus how he was faring. "Are you alright, Rodimus?" He asked.

The young Prime looked over at him, his bored expression trying to hide his anger. "Yeah, but Primus that was boring, wasn't it?"

Drift smiled and shrugged. "I actually learned a few things from it, so I'm not complaining."

Rodimus suddenly smirked and leaned in close to Drift. "So, are you an Alpha, or an Omega?"

Drift blushed upon hearing the personal question from Rodimus. "W-what?" He stammered, "why do you want to know all of a sudden?"

The young Prime shrugged. "I was curious," he sighed, "since I'm a Prime, I'm technically both. I was just wondering what you were."

The white swordsmech rolled his optics, and started walking back to his room. Rodimus immediately started to chase after him, calling out to him, and demanding to know what type of mech he was.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - Past suicide attempt

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Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

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With only two more orbital cycles till the tournament, Rodimus and Drift continued with their training. The young Prime was determined to enter, for the winner would have their request of their choosing granted by the ruling Prime. Apparently this was the main reason anyone with a wish that only a Prime could grant would enter such a tournament. Of course not just anyone could enter, but those that did had a good reason to, and it was for this prize alone. Drift was uncertain what Rodimus wanted, but that did not sway his feelings upon entering the tournament as the young Prime's second. At the spark of dawn till the rise of the moons, they trained and trained and trained. Some sols they would have friendly spars, other sols they would exercise their muscles in activities, and on most sols they would fight each other, under the supervision of Sir Kup.

The elder knight had yet to approve of Rodimus entering, but so far he was impressed with what he saw from the young mechs training. He would step in every now and then to offer advice, or tell Rodimus off when he went over board. In fact, by complete accident, Rodimus gave Drift a scar along his cheek. Thankfully it was nothing serious, and it was completely healed by the healers, but Rodimus was constantly apologising to Drift, even after he was healed. Sir Kup was also in a bind, for he wasn't certain if he should praise Rodimus or tell him off. He was impressed that the young Prime managed to scratch the white swordsmech, for he had commented how skilled Drift was, but he felt like he should tell him off since it was a friendly match. Drift assured Rodimus he was fine, and the two carried on.

In their spare time, when not training, they would either play games, read each other stories, or just relax in the gardens. At night, Drift would read the booklet he was given, to help him understand what was happening to his body as it dawned his sixth vorn. He was disgusted with himself when he learned that he had been "aroused" when he made body contact with the young Prime. In fact he punished himself by spending a night in a tub of ice cold bathing oils. He felt better as he read on and learned that it was natural to be aroused by mechs he found attractive, and he would be able to control it when he was older. In his youth, it was understandable that he had problems knowing how to handle it. It was merely a moment of weakness, and everybody went though with it, even those from the Circle. Still that did not stop him from visiting the chapel of Primus, and begging for forgiveness. He even took up advance meditating skills, to make certain it would never happen again.

After a session of training, Rodimus explained to Drift, in detail, how the tournament worked. A number of mechs would be entering, including the two Primes, Sentinel and Optimus. They would enter with someone else, who would act as their second. Upon entering, they would all then be organised into set fights, and begin the first match. The winners from the first match would then be organised again and begin the second match. This would continue until only two remained, and whoever wins the final match wins the tournament.

"Depending how many enter, there could be any number of matches," explained Rodimus, sipping his energon tea. "I heard that the last one had twenty-two matches, and the one before had eleven."

Drift listened to every detail, wanting to fully understand what he was about to experience. "What is the purpose of the second?" He asked.

Rodimus forced himself to swallow a mouthful of energon tea, before answering. "Well, if I were to lose to someone I was fighting against, which I won't, it will be up to you to fight in my place."

In other words, the second is the last resort should the competitor failed. If the second lost, it would be all over, but if the second won, then they would advance to the next match, as if nothing had ever happened. So if Rodimus did lose, it would be up to Drift to win back the match. It was quite the weight on his shoulders, but Drift was confident he could win back any match, should Rodimus lose. So far he was doing well, but Drift had yet to see what he was like against other knights. Rodimus was short, compared to the other Iaconians he had seen, but he had grown a bit. Still, his size could be an advantage in a spar.

One sol, the two mechs were greeted with wonderful news. Sir Kup had finally decided to allow them to enter the tournament, and had just received approval from Rodimus' father, Nominus Prime. He did point out to them though, that Nominus wasn't too pleased that Rodimus wanted to enter, and Sir Kup had to do a little pleading, knowing full well that Rodimus would be furious with him if he didn't try. Apparently the ruling Prime was concerned that his young son would get hurt. Drift was touched upon hearing this, but Rodimus seemed angry to hear it.

"He seems truly worried for you Rodimus," explained Drift, wondering why the young Prime was angry to hear his own sire was concerned for his safety.

Rodimus snorted, and folded his arms. "He doesn't care about me like that," he growled.

Drift wondered what he meant by that. In fact, he had yet to see how Rodimus acted around his father. On that note, he had yet to see the ruling Prime of Cybertronia. He had been here for a while, and yet he never had the opportunity to meet with Nominus Prime. He knew what he looked like, thanks to all the paintings, but he never met him in person. Rodimus explained it was because he was busy with important work, and other times it was because he could never find him.

"The sad thing is, he knows where to find me," sighed the young Prime, his angry expression changing to a bitter one.

Drift was confused once more. "What do you mean?" 

Rodimus shook his head furiously. "N-nothing, it's... nothing."

The white swordsmech decided to drop it.

With only an orbital cycle and a half left till the tournament, Rodimus and Drift did nothing but train and train. There were sols when they had to rest, and sols where they worked their afts off, but the two carried on, eager for the sol they would fight for real. 

On that particular sol, Rodimus had grown weary of their spar, and decided that he and Drift should take a break. "I feel like sleeping in one of the gardens," sighed Rodimus, yawning as he spoke. "The one a couple of courtyards away should do nicely."

Drift did not argue, for he too wanted to rest. His joints were starting to get stiff and the last thing he wanted was to enter a tournament with limbs he could barely move. He nodded in agreement and followed the young Prime out of the training grounds.

"That was a good session we had," said Drift with a smile. "I think we are pretty much ready to enter the tournament with no major concerns."

Rodimus tried to hide his delight upon hearing this, but Drift could tell he was overjoyed to hear such a thing. "Sentinel won't know what hit him," laughed the young Prime. "The pompous fool still thinks he should go easy on me, but when I'm done with him, he'll think twice before underestimating me."

"Sentinel is powerful," warned Drift, "and I'm certain Optimus is just as strong. Just because they are your brothers, doesn't mean you should underestimate them either."

The young Prime made said nothing, but made a gesture suggesting he acknowledged what Drift had said. Drift was no fool either, for he was aware that Rodimus and Sentinel did not get on well with each other. Although he believed Sentinel Prime to be both beautiful and powerful, as a Prime should, he had to admit that he wasn't a decent older brother, especially around Rodimus. Whenever Sentinel was around Rodimus, he would mock him, tease him, and on one occasion, he even shoved him out of the way. Drift thought it was something that common around siblings, for he had seen such siblings do such things back home, but the more he witnessed, the more he began to think that Sentinel was just a not-so-good brother to the young Prime. Yes, he was what Drift thought a Prime should look like, but his general attitude around Rodimus wasn't appreciative. He kept telling himself that maybe Sentinel was just trying to help his little brother build character, for deep down he still could not believe that someone with the blood of Primus in their veins bore a foul personality. Sentinel Prime was full of pride, and glowed with a godly aura, so maybe he was just teasing Rodimus, nothing more. It wasn't as if he hurt Rodimus, and even then, Drift couldn't picture him doing something so cruel to his little brother. 

Optimus, on the other hand, seemed to be the only one who treated Rodimus with love and care. There were times when he told him off, but Drift could see it was only out of concern. Optimus always came to check on Rodimus during training, and even tried to convince him to drop out of the tournament for his own safety. He was just so kind and sweet around his little brother, unlike Sentinel. Maybe he and Sentinel worked together to bring out the best in their little brother; Sentinel being the firm one, and Optimus being the gentle one. A perfect, well balanced up bringing? That actually made a little sense, now that Drift thought about it.

"Drift, what wish do you want granted?" Asked Rodimus suddenly, bringing the white mech out of his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" He replied.

Rodimus rolled his optics at him. "The prize for winning the tournament is to have whatever you desire granted by the ruling Prime," explained Rodimus, reminding Drift what was at stake. "Some nobles enter just to have some silly request come true, like having a street named after them, and knights who enter wish to be made Lords, and own an estate."

The white mech recalled this, remembering it was the whole reason, apart from duelling his older brother, that Rodimus wanted to enter in the first place. A desire that the ruling Prime can grant, a wish that no one else could make reality, truly a blessing that anyone would die for.

"But I thought it was you who would get the wish?" Queried Drift, believing that as Rodimus' second, the rule wouldn't apply to him, even if Rodimus won.

Rodimus merely grinned at him. "You get a wish granted too, silly," he laughed. "It wouldn't be fair if only I get what I want, wouldn't it?" He stepped a little closer, almost invading Drift's personal space. "So, what do you want? Your own little island? A star named after you? A whole harem to yourself?"

Drift blushed furiously after that last one. "N-no! Of course not," he snapped.

The young Prime just laughed. "Sorry, couldn't resist, but I do know a knight who entered just for that reason." Once the humour had subsided, Rodimus asked his question again, "So what would you like?"

Nothing really came to Drift's mind, for he was fairly content with his life, happy with everything he already had. He didn't desire to own an estate, nor to have anything named after him. There was nothing he really desired, or he just couldn't think of one. It was a sudden question, and he had no time to think about it.

Rodimus seemed to have picked up on this, and frowned. "Drift, if we're going to enter to win, then you need a goal."

Drift appeared confused. "But our goal is to win. Surely that alone will-" 

"No, no, no, that's OUR goal," asserted Rodimus, grabbing Drift's shoulders as he spoke, "You alone need a personal goal, like me."

"A personal goal?" Repeated Drift.

Rodimus nodded. "Look, it's alright that you want to win, but you need to have a reason to win. Want alone isn't going to help fuel your compassion and desire to win the battle, you need to set your optics on something you crave more than life itself, something you would die for, something you want more than life itself. If you enter the tournament without such a need, then you're gonna fail before you even stepped in the arena." The young Prime stepped back, placing his hands on his hips as he continued to preach. "If what you desire most is just a few sword fights away, you'll fight as if the fate of the world depended on it. You tell yourself that, you won't lose, you won't fail, because if you do, then that once in a lifetime chance is gone forever! If you want to win this tournament, if you want what you have desired the longest, then you have to focus on the goal."

The small courtyard was unusually quiet after such a long and loud speech from the young Prime. Rodimus just stood there as still as a statue, almost as if he were awaiting a response.

Drift just stared at him with a bewildered expression plastered on his pale face. "That... that was unexpected," he stammered.

Rodimus flushed a bright red, and stamped a single foot upon the ground. "What do you mean unexpected?" he snapped, "I just told you what you needed to do in order to win." The white mech said nothing, but smiled in a way that would cause another's spark to explode in utter delight. Rodimus flushed an even brighter red, before turning away from Drift and mumbled, "l-let's just get to that garden." Drift said nothing, but nodded in agreement, following the young Prime to the garden. 

After entering yet another courtyard, a loud and all too familiar voice caught their attention. The pair looked up, and much to Drift's dismay, they spotted Ultra Magnus standing within a doorway, looking as grim as ever. Rodimus groaned aloud, not caring that it earned him a scowl from the rude mech.

"Rodimus Prime, there is something we need to discuss," he declared before the young Prime, and he shot Drift a nasty glare before spitting out the words, "in private."

Drift just glared back, whilst Rodimus sighed with a nod. "As long as it won't take too long," he grumbled. The young Prime glanced over at Drift, his face bearing a sorry expression. "Meet me in the garden," he requested, "it's just through that archway, past the first garden, through a corridor, take a left, and then you're there." 

The white mech had quickly learned that this whole section of the palace was just a maze of gardens and courtyards, but thankfully he had also quickly learned how to navigate through them, so the young Prime's directions made sense to him. Bidding Rodimus farewell, he skipped off, wanting to get as far away from Ultra Magnus as he could. There was something about his mood that was making Drift feel ill. 

He walked through the archway, leaving the two mechs far behind, and had entered the first garden. As he looked around for the corridor out of this garden, it was then that he noticed that something felt familiar. He gazed around as his mind brought to his attention that he had been here before, yet it felt different at the same time. The blue crystal roses sparkled in the light of the sol, and the stone steps decorated the floor glowed with an aura of cleanliness. It wasn't a big garden, compared to all the others, but he was certain he had seen it before. Where though? Was it possible he walked through it before and never paid attention until now? He had been here for so long, it might have been possible that he did walk through here without realising it, but was he now only realising it? He gazed upwards, and spotted a walkway atop the garden walls, leading from one part of the palace to the other. He recognised that walkway, but from where?

It then hit him, like a sharp slap to the face. A chill ran through him as he looked around the garden again. The beauty of the garden could not hide it's terrible past, and now Drift could the dread and the terror that continued to linger within the flowers and trees. This was the garden where Optimus Prime had his accident.

He remembered the tale Rodimus told him of how Optimus, in his youth, was standing atop the walkway, watching his father hosting a quaint garden party, when a servant pushed him. The gentle Prime, barely past his first vorn, fell through the air, and landed on the cold slabs of the garden below. Rodimus did not witness it for he had yet to be born, but did know that it was the most terrifying thing anyone could have ever seen. His older brother's small body laid sprawled upon the lawn, a pool of energon blood growing beneath him. It was first assumed that he had died instantly, but thankfully he had been saved thanks the the healers that were on hand. Nominus Prime had the servant executed right there, and upon learning that the servant hailed from Kaon, he enforced even harsher laws upon the dark land.

Drift shuddered, wrapping his cloak around his body. He could almost picture the horrible scene, as if he had been standing there when it happened. He could almost smell the bitter stench of the energon blood, soaking the floor. He could even imagine how many screamed that sol, upon witnessing the innocent form crumpled on the floor. What kind of monster would push a child, let alone a Prime, from such a height? Revenge? Hatred for the Primes? A twisted desire? Why?

He was about to leave this cold place, when he detected the sound of whistling. He looked around until he spotted movement beyond a garnet rose bush. Walking round, he was relieved to see it was just some old gardener, whistling an old tune as he tore up the weeds from the mulch. The gardener peered up at him, not showing any interest at all.

Drift politely bowed, with a nervous smile. "You keep this garden well, friend," he declared.

The gardener just grunted, and continued with his work. "Someone has to," he grumbled, yanking at the weeds as he spoke, "only I tend to this garden."

"I can imagine why," responded Drift, still feeling the cold air about him. "After what happened here, I doubt anyone would want to tend to this garden."

The gardener then looked up, a curious and a mocking look now spread across his face. "Oh, so what did they tell you?" 

Drift felt confused by these words. "What do you mean?" He asked, shuffling where he stood. "Is this not the garden where Optimus Prime was almost murdered as a child?" His query was met with a cold laugh. The white mech frowned, not approving of the gardener's attitude towards a tragic event. "It's no laughing matter that a Prime was nearly murdered," he spat.

"He jumped."

The air suddenly grew silent and heavy, after those two words left the lips of the old gardener. Drift stared at him as he tried to process what he had just heard. The gardener just stared at him, a cruel smirk now staining his old face. 

"W-what do you mean?" Demanded Drift, his spark now pulsing quite fast. "They told he was pushed."

"They told you wrong," replied the gardener, "I was there, and I know what I saw." He turned his back to tend to the weeds, but continued his dark story. "They were all having a grand party that sol, music and dancing and all the treats you can imagine. I was just adding the final touches to a quartz tulip shrub, when I noticed young Optimus, standing right up there." He pointed to the walkway overhead. "Optimus was so fair and innocent in his youth. You felt like you should get executed just by admiring his beauty. He was too young, far too young to have those empty optics he always wore."

Drift felt the tense air about him, the dark atmosphere nearly crushing him, and the sense of dread that continued to grow within him. "He couldn't have jumped," he weakly protested.

The gardener sneered at him. "If you had seen him that sol, you would have believed he wanted to take his own life. I saw the dead look in his optics, the lost expression he bore upon his fair face, and I could almost smell the bitter detest of life from all the way down here." The old gardener sighed as he tore up more weeds. "The servant tried to grab him, but he leapt before he could reach him. Now he carries the guilt of having an innocent life slaughtered by his own need to end his own life."

The cold words echoed in Drift's mind. His small frame became heavy and his head was feeling light. Time seemed to have slowed down and nothing seemed to make sense anymore. The very idea that Optimus, the gentle and pure Prime, would want to take his own life at such a young age? The gardener had to be lying, he must have made up such a tale to scare him. There was no way that Optimus would do such a thing... but why didn't it sound like a lie? Unable to stand there any longer Drift fled from that cold garden, never wanting to sit foot in there again.


	10. Chapter Ten

Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale

Chapter Ten  
Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - mentions of past suicide attempt

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Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

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Sitting within the courtyard during the warm sol, Drift found he could not concentrate with his training. So far all he had accomplished was spinning his blades between his dark fingers and staring off into space, counting the number of tiles there were on a nearby wall and other pointless things. The tournament was only a few sols away and the palace became a wars one of organised chaos for everyone began to prepare for it. Servants polished everything in sight, Knights sharpened their blades, Lords were already arriving by the hundreds, and everyone else did what was needed for the exclusive event. The participates were either training or resting up before the whole kicked off, and Rodimus was getting anxious as the sol dragged on and he wasn't impressed with Drift's change of attitude.

"You aren't going to help me win by sitting there doing nothing," snapped the young Prime, pacing the worn floor before Drift. "And you haven't even found the one thing you have to fight for! I told you, if we're going to win we both need a goal that we would kill for."

Drift winced and felt bad that he was causing Rodimus so much stress. "Sorry, a lot has been on my mind," Drift said apologetically.

That didn't help calm the situation however. "So get your mind back into it! I will not lose this tournament so if you can't play your role then I... I..." Rodimus frowned as he tried to think of something to shock his friend but nothing came to mind.

The swordsmech bit his lip and looked away. What should he say? Lie and pretend that he wasn't feeling well or reveal that he discovered that Optimus attempted suicide at a young age? He wanted to believe that the gardener was just teasing him because he was a foreigner, but deep down in his gut he believed this story to be true. He wasn't certain as to why but after what he had seen with Optimus before and the strange tales Rodimus had told him he was certain that the gardener had told him the truth.

Why? What could have caused Optimus to take his own life at such a young age? What reason did he have to take such a rash action? Did he just enter a depressed phase of his life, or was he pushed into a corner? Who hurt him? Who caused him so much suffering that he believed that ending his life was the answer? So many questions and not an answer in sight. He knew that the Palace of Primes would contain secrets but none such so dark. 

"Drift!"

The swordsmech jumped from where he sat and he stared directly at an angry Rodimus. He tried to force a somewhat cocky smile but that didn't work.

"Please Drift, I need you to focus," begged Rodimus, his optics almost on the verge of tears.

Knowing it was not his place to think of such things Drift mentally slapped himself back to reality. The whole reason he was here was to keep Rodimus happy and right now he was doing a poor job of it.

"Sorry Rodimus," muttered Drift, feeling bad for upsetting him. 

Rodimus smiled and waved it off. "It's ok," he replied, "I just think we need to find you a goal."

Ah yes, a goal Drift needed to win the tournament. Those who won the tournament would be granted a boon from the ruling Prime and it could be anything he wanted, but Drift had no need of fancy prizes or miraculous wishes. Rodimus had been thinking for him and had come up with many ideas but none of them appealed to Drift. None of them got him excited or caught his interest. Drift did try but Rodimus could tell when his suggestions were failures in the White mech's optics.  
"I'm sorry Rodimus," sighed Drift, "but there isn't really anything I want."

Rodimus pouted. "Everyone wants something in life, they just need to figure it out," argued the young Prime, pacing once more. "There has to be something Drift, something you want above all else?"

Drift couldn't really think of anything, he was trying but his life was content enough. Rodimus wasn't letting up however and it was starting to get on his nerves."Can we just stop this please?" he snapped, folding his arms in a huff. "By Prima's Blade Rodimus, I don't know what-"

"That's it!" shrieked Rodimus, jumping up without warning.

Before Drift could even ask Rodimus grabbed his hand and pulled him away, dragging him through the palace. Drift stumbled behind him, not sure where they were going. They passed by Knights and loitering nobles, all of them staring at the pair as the ran through the hallways and corridors of the palace. 

Eventually they stopped before a grand golden door with an Old Knight of Cybertronia etched onto it, Drift almost forgot to bow before it, and it guarded by two gigantic Prime Guard Knights who stood so still that Drift almost mistook them for statues. They did bow their heads before Rodimus before returning to their posts.

"Where are we?" asked Drift, feeling a little intimidated by the silent guards.

Rodimus merely grinned at him and patted the door with his hand. "Take a guess what's behind this door?" he asked in a teasing way. "Go on, guess!"

Drift looked back at the golden door. It was guarded by two Prime Guard Knights and the door actually had complicated locks which he had no clue how to operate. Whatever was behind this door was clearly something that was very important and very valuable, something he believed that he wasn't allowed to see. What it was, he had no clue. "A... special treasure of some sort?" he guessed, shrugging as he answered.

The young Prime rolled his optics. "Primus you have no imagination," he grumbled. He put and arm around Drift and spoke gently into his audio. "What's behind this door is he actual Blade of Prima."

Drift felt his spark implode. His optics widened and he looked at Rodimus with bewildered expression. "The... THE Blade of Prima?"

Rodimus grinned as he nodded. "I've only see it once but Optimus told me himself that Prima wielded that blade against Unicron himself. It's got even more guards inside and its encased in a crystal case forged by Solus Prime."

Drift's optics lit up in wonder as Rodimus continues to talk. The Blade of Prima was considered to be the holiest of all relics to the Circle. He remembered the elders speaking of going on Pilgrimages to see the blade but they never cruelly told he young ones where it was. Only those who were worthy were allowed to know its location. It made sense that it was right here in the Palace of Primes.

Created from the flesh, blood and the spark of Primus and forged in the White Star of Beginnings, where it was believed Primus come into being, the Blade of Prima was a weapon unlike any other. In fact it was insulting to think of it as a mere weapon. They say it was so beautiful that it would bewitch its enemies, making the drop their weapons in awe and would thank Primus that they were given the honer to be slain by such a holy blade. It was so powerful it could tear the moons in two, rip the ground asunder and destroy a nation with one swing. Only a Prime could harness its power and a Prime could only use it to defend the people of Cybertronia, never to use it to wage war. Drift could only dream of gazing upon it.

"You can hold it you know," whispered Rodimus. Drift felt his legs wobble upon hearing this. He hoped Rodimus was joking, he seriously hoped he was joking. Drift's spark was pulsing so fast it was on the verge of exploding. "I'm serious," continued Rodimus, "Optimus says that whenever Masters of the Circle visit, my Sire allows them to hold it. A ceremonial thing or whatever, but I'm certain that he'll let you hold it if we win the tournament."

Drift was at loss for words. "Would he really let me?" he asked, still trying to picture the holy blade beyond this golden door.

"Yes, I'm certain," proclaimed Rodimus. "I mean there was once a guy who won the tournament and asked if he could just touch Solus Prime's Hammer. He was a weapon-smith who believed that the Hammer would bless him or something. He got to touch it and now he's a world famous weapon-smith."

Drift felt a strange urge within him, a desire that almost took control. He stared down at his hands and envisioned the clasping the hilt of that sacred sword, its power and beauty in his hands. The idea to hold the very blade Prima wielded against the unholy beast of Unicron was something that only the worthy could dream of. How wonderful it would feel, how glorious it would be to hold the blade for only a few moments. The pride he would feel, the honer that would overwhelm him, it was almost too much for him to handle.

Rodimus could only smirk at Drift's dream smitten face. "What do you think?" he probed, "You and me win the tournament and we both get what we want. I get my wish granted and you get to hold the Blade of Prima in your own hands." It was most appealing and Drift was still speechless for he could only fantasise about holding the blade. Rodimus bopped him on the head to bring him back to reality. "You like it right?" 

Still unable to speak Drift could only nod, smiling in a childish way that made Rodimus snort with laughter. Drift's mind was now set and determination filled his optics. If all he had to do was make certain they would win this tournament to win the chance to hold the Blade of Prima then he was going to put his all into it. He was going to help Rodimus win this thing even if it killed them. All of his worries and past concerns were now replaced with the hope and desire to grasp that blade in his hands.

The young Prime seemed pleased that he found something to give Drift the drive he needed to win this tournament. "So we're going to win this thing, right?"

"Right!" replied Drift, now able to speak again and a warm smile now filling his face.

Rodimus smiled back and they walked away to practise some more. As they walked a thought came to Drift. "Rodimus, what is your wish? What are you fighting for?"

"It's a secret," replied the young Prime with a teasing smile.


End file.
